Prior Claim
by Tales by Eresse
Summary: A series of ficlets primarily recounting the evolution of Legolas and Elrohir's relationship from an unlikely friendship into a love for the ages. Every chapter is written for the fanfic100 challenge on LJ and inspired by one of 100 provided prompts.
1. Acquaintance

**Title: **Acquaintance  
**Fandom:** JRR Tolkien - The Sons of Elrond (written for the fanfic100 challenge on LJ)  
**Characters: **Legolas, Elladan & Elrohir, Elrond, Celebrían  
**Prompt:** 028. Children  
**Disclaimer: **The characters belong to the wizard of storytelling himself, JRR Tolkien and/or his estate. No offence is intended or profit made in my use of them.  
**Summary:** One first leads to a host of other firsts for a certain prince of Greenwood.  
**Author's Notes:** I wrote this for a round robin challenge wherein Legolas was to meet the young sons of Elrond for the first time. I was asked to start it off and this was the chapter I submitted. Even then I found myself wanting to complete this story. So I did and experimented with my writing by using the fanfic100 challenge prompts to inspire each chapter. It's a new way of writing a story for me. I hope it pleases.

_Lairë _T.A. 167  
As soon as they crossed the Ford of the Bruinen, Legolas felt it. The power that protected the valley beyond. If he'd had any doubts as to whether they had followed the right trail, those doubts were now quelled.

"Is it much further?" he asked the Wood-elven captain whose warriors formed his escort.

"Nay, sire," the other Elf replied. "We shall reach Lord Elrond's halls ere sunset."

Legolas nodded and urged his steed forward. He was eager to reach the heart of fabled Imladris. The last Noldorin stronghold in all Middle-earth and home of the legendary Peredhil whose present patriarch had served as herald to the last High-king of the Eldar in these Hither Lands.

He had heard much about Elrond Half-elven from his father and not always in the most flattering of terms. But that was not unexpected given the circumstances in the war against accursed Mordor that had cost the Silvan Elves of Greenwood the Great their king and a goodly number of their folk. It was his fortune that his grandsire and father had refused to risk their one and only heir in the battles in the south. Thus was he left regent of the woodland realm during the seven years siege of Mordor and most likely spared his grandfather's fate. Still, Thranduil Oropherion had not gone so far as to completely cut ties with the other elven realms, mindful as he was of the need to buttress his people's security with succor from their Eldarin brethren.

It was for this reason that Legolas now journeyed to Imladris. To pass the summer in the vale learning the mores of a folk unlike his own in so many ways. After all, the crown prince of the elven realm of northern Greenwood could not remain ignorant of what lay beyond the bounds of his forest home.

The sound of singing alerted him to the nearness of their destination. He looked about with interest as he espied the first buildings in the outlying districts of the valley realm. Here and there, dark-haired Elves peered curiously at the woodland party from windows and doors or from behind trees and tall brush. Before he could comment on the startling darkness of these strange Elves, he saw that they had come to a great arched gate that welcomed them into a spacious stone-paved courtyard. In the background was a sprawling, many-storied building that belied its best-known name. For this was no house in Legolas' opinion but a domicile befitting a great lord of Elves. He eyed the gathered Elves who awaited his party with much interest.

He swiftly separated Elrond from the rest though he had never laid eyes on him before. There was no mistaking that here was one in whose veins both elven and mortal blood flowed. It showed in his tall and slender yet patently solid frame, in his meatier limbs, lean though they were, and in his slightly mannish countenance that was unlike that of any pureblooded Elf.

Hardly had he adjusted to the uniqueness of the Half-elven lord when his interest was drawn elsewhere. At Elrond's side stood an Elf-woman of surpassing loveliness. Silver-haired Celebrían – his lady-wife, Legolas presumed. But it was the two young Elves at her side who most piqued his curiosity. Two young Elves of such astonishing similarity to each other that one would be forgiven for thinking one had begun to see double. Legolas blinked once, twice, in order to ascertain that he had indeed just gotten his first glimpse of a rarity. Elven twins.

In the time it took for his steed to cross the courtyard, the archer swiftly appraised the two who stood quietly by their parents. He did not know for certain whether the Peredhil's physical growth was anything like that of _Edhil_ but, if it was, then Elrond's sons were no more than twenty-eight years of age, that point between innocent childhood and unruly puberty.

They were tall for their age and already beginning to lose the roundness of face and form associated with children. And they were fair to behold, these sons of Elrond. Comely as the elusive twilight yet robust with a primal vigor that did not owe its origins to the Elves. He could see in them the ethereal beauty of their exquisite mother and the earthy allure of their handsome father. It was a striking combination and a potent one. Legolas could imagine what they would look like when they were full grown. Elves from all over Middle-earth would strive to gain one or the other's favor, he concluded. He wondered if they were as blessed with their sire's gifts of foresight and deep perceptiveness as well.

His perusal of the twins was interrupted when he dismounted and presented himself to Elrond and his lady. But when he was introduced to the brethren, his fascination heightened further. For the twins seemed as different in personality as they were alike in appearance.

Elladan regarded him with the polite amiability and guarded curiosity of a diplomat. But Elrohir stared at him with near unnerving frankness, his grey eyes as appraising of him as his own veiled observation of the twins had been earlier. And while he smiled with his brother's courteous civility, there was none of the practiced reserve of the older twin.

It occurred to Legolas that even now the brethren were already cognizant of their designated roles in their valley realm. Elladan was the heir apparent, the twin who might one day rule Imladris. Hence his somewhat detached demeanor. But Elrohir would be his chief counsellor no doubt and likely commander of Rivendell's forces as well. He would be his brother's shield and if that meant drawing attention and therefore the potential for harm to himself, then so be it. Thus his more open manner.

But that still did not explain his intuitive affinity with the younger twin. If one were to consider it, he had more in common with the older twin who like himself was his father's heir and therefore should feel more of a bond with Elladan. Yet this was not the case. It was Elrohir who snared his interest. And from the young Elf-knight's intense regard, the same could be said of him.

"You should not stare at Legolas so, Elrohir," Elladan mildly admonished his brother with a slight nudge to his side. "'Tis impolite."

"I am only returning the favor," Elrohir calmly retorted. "Or did you not notice how he studied us ere we were introduced?"

"_Gwenyn!_"—twins!—Celebrían softly exclaimed. "'Tis even more impolite to talk about someone as if he were not standing right in front of you." She looked apologetically at the woodland prince though Legolas could have sworn he glimpsed a twinkle of humor in her eyes. "I beg pardon for my sons, Legolas. They meant no offense."

Legolas smiled and shook his head. "And I took none," he assured her. "Indeed, Elrohir only spoke the truth. I did stare at them far longer than would be deemed proper and for that I must beg pardon. I can only plead immense fascination for I have never beheld twins before and such astonishing likeness. I wondered how anyone could tell each from the other."

"There are some differences between them," Elrond said with a fond smile. "You will discover them if you look hard enough."

"But I think Legolas can already tell us apart," one of the brethren stated. With a start, Legolas realized they had quietly shifted position to flank him while he spoke to their parents. "At least, you know who I am, don't you," the twin addressed Legolas with eerie certainty.

And with just as much certainty, Legolas knew that he did though for the life of him, he did not comprehend how. "I – well, yea, I do," he admitted. "You have a forthright tongue, Elrohir."

The younger twin shrugged, "'Tis the most efficient way to get answers," he bluntly replied. "So long as concealment is not of the essence. And there is no need to hide the fact that you are not deceived by our likeness."

Legolas gaped at him for an instant, stunned by such unchildlike sagacity. "Indeed I am not but I haven't the faintest notion why this is so," he replied.

Elrond interjected a gentle opinion at this point, seeing that the archer needed some rescuing from his younger son's rather disconcerting assertions.

"When kindred spirits meet, they oft recognize the other," he said. "I would venture to guess that you see in Elrohir just such a connection and thus know him by it. But come, _ernil neth_."—young prince. "You and your party are weary from your journey. Take your ease now." He signaled to his steward to take care of the visitors.

Legolas smiled his thanks and began to follow the steward. But he felt a slender hand slip into his and he looked down into Elrohir's dusky eyes. Elladan stood by his brother's side.

"Your chamber is in our end of the west wing, between Elladan's and mine," the youth gravely informed him, all flippancy gone and proper decorum firmly in place. "We will take you there."

Wondering at the young Peredhel's mercurial nature, Legolas nodded his acquiescence and allowed the twins to conduct him thence.

Celebrían watched them go then turned to her lord. "I pray our guest survives this visit. Elbereth only knows what our sons will demand of him," she murmured.

Elrond sighed resignedly. "More to the point, let us hope Elrohir keeps his precociousness in check else Legolas may rue ever leaving his father's halls!"

Glossary:  
Lairë – Quenya for summer  
Edhil - Elves  
Peredhil (sing. Peredhel) – Half-elven/Half-elves  
Oropherion – son of Oropher

_To be continued..._


	2. Conjectures

**Title: **Conjectures  
**Characters: **Elladan and Elrohir, Legolas  
**Prompt:** 045. Moon  
**Rating:** PG  
**Summary:** When one twin attempts to plumb his brother's feelings, he learns more than he bargained for.

"You are enamored of him, aren't you?" Silence met the query. "Elrohir?"

The younger twin did not turn from his contemplation of Ithil. He was seated on the balustrade of his bedchamber balcony, face raised in seeming adoration of the moon's radiance. Yet in truth it seemed as if 'twas he that Ithil worshipped. For so tenderly did he bathe the Elf-knight in silvery light that he looked more a divinity than a Peredhel of the line of the gallant Mariner. At length, Elrohir lowered his rapt gaze and looked at his brother who was seated on his bed.

"And if I am?" he said.

"'Tis not surprising," Elladan replied. "He is more than passing fair. And a tried warrior and governor as well." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You have exceptional taste, brother." When Elrohir only wanly smiled, he regarded him searchingly. "What troubles you?"

Elrohir sighed. "Best I not dwell on it," he murmured. "It will come to naught." At Elladan's surprised stare, he added: "He will not want me following him about."

Elladan frowned. "Since when have you been so lacking in confidence?" he demanded. "What is it about the Wood-elf that has overcome you?"

"The same thing that leaves you oft speechless when a certain much esteemed Elf smiles at you," Elrohir archly replied. He grinned when his brother blushed deeply. "It seems we are of a piece, you and I, when it comes to such matters."

"Speak for yourself," Elladan retorted, his cheeks hot. "I will not hesitate when the time comes, I promise you."

Elrohir chuckled. "I will hold you to that, _tôr iuar_"—older brother—he teased. "Mayhap I might learn enough to serve my own cause."

The older twin looked at him thoughtfully. "Surely you do not doubt your charms," he said. "Did you not mark how he eyed us earlier? He appreciated what he saw, Elrohir, and more so when you spoke to him so boldly. Why so diffident now?"

The Elf-knight studied the darkened landscape a space before replying. "I have realized that I am no more than a mere sapling to him," he said at last. "What interest could he possibly take in one as green as I? And one of his greater years and beauty would have his pick of Elves to warm his bed. He would not need or care to wait for a child to grow up. Provided he even thought that child worth his time."

Elladan stared at him. Uncertainty shadowed his eyes. "You believe this of him yet, for all his years, in age or knowledge he is no match for—" The older twin looked quite crestfallen. "No wonder you think my aspirations so amusing."

Elrohir's eyes widened. "Nay!" he softly exclaimed with a shake of his head. "There is a difference. A great one." At Elladan's skeptical look, he said: "Legolas knows nothing about me. How can he even begin to consider more than a passing friendship with one he has only just met? But with you…" He gently smiled at Elladan. "If you only knew how he looks at you when he thinks no one sees."

Elladan caught his breath. "How does he look at me?" he whispered.

"As one who is patiently biding his time." Elrohir snorted when his twin gaped at him. "He knows us well, Elladan. He has known us since our swaddling days. 'Tis probable that he has deduced what we will be like when we are full-grown. But whether he has or not, I wager he has already decided which one of us is very much to his liking."

Elladan considered this. "Strange that you should see what I cannot," he murmured. "Yet if what you say is true, then…" He smiled so sweetly, Elrohir felt his own frustration diminish somewhat. "Mayhap 'tis because you do not care for him as I do. In which case, it is very likely I will read Legolas' heart more easily than you can."

Before Elrohir could respond, someone knocked on the door. Elladan rose and went to see who it was. He blinked upon finding Legolas at the door.

But he was no more surprised than the archer who frowned and said: "Forgive me, I thought this was Elrohir's room."

"It is his room," Elladan confirmed, noting that Legolas had unerringly identified him. He nodded in the direction of the balcony.

Legolas followed his gaze and saw Elrohir just as the younger twin got to his feet, his expression quite priceless in Elladan's opinion. Elladan fought the urge to snicker. The urge grew even stronger when he espied the gleam of pleasure in Legolas' eyes. But who would not be pleased when presented with the wondrous picture his brother made, his whole being all-aglow in the moonlight?

"I saw you from my window," Legolas said. "I wondered if you would care to take a turn with me around the garden." At Elrohir's bemused reaction, he explained: "I always find it difficult to sleep the first night I am in a new place. A short walk oft helps me unwind."

Elrohir quickly collected his wits. "I would be happy to accompany you. And if the walk does not suffice, a mug of hot milk with honey does wonders."

Legolas smiled. "Ah, that brings back memories. 'Twas my mother's supreme remedy when I was a child and too restless to sleep." He gestured to Elrohir to precede him. "Shall we?"

Elladan carefully covered a burgeoning grin with his hand.

_Interesting that he sought you out, brother, when either of us would have served_.

Elrohir spared his twin a sheepish glance, cheeks turning rosy as he passed him on the way out. Elladan's grin widened.

Leaning against the doorframe, his arms folded across his chest, he watched the two make their way down the hallway, already companionably conversing. Oh, this was going to be a most interesting summer, he decided.

_To be continued..._


	3. Expectations

**Title: **Expectations  
**Characters: **Elrohir, Legolas, Elrond, Celebrían  
**Prompt:** 014. Green.  
**Rating: :** PG  
**Summary:** A fledgling friendship upsets some long-held assumptions.

Elrohir never thought that something as intangible as a scent could enchant him. Yet he owned himself well and truly beguiled by the merest whiff of his companion. It was an aroma unlike any he had ever known.

It was sweet and invigorating and – oh, he could not quite put his finger on the right word to describe how he felt. He only knew that partaking of Legolas's scent was akin to taking a deep breath of fresh air. Of walking down verdant forest paths when the redolence of spring and awakening flora and foliage perfumed the breeze. He could make a habit of it if he was not careful. He glanced sideways at the archer. No, it would not do to become so accustomed to it that he would seek it even when Legolas had quitted the valley.

Since the woodland prince arrived a fortnight ago, they had taken strolls every day. Mostly in the evenings and in the gardens as they did now. But also on occasion in the early mornings ere they partook of breakfast, exploring the woods beyond the bridge or walking between the rows of laden trees in the orchard.

Elladan oft teased him about this unexpected turn of events. He who had been so certain that he could be of no consequence to a centuries-older Elf now found himself said Elf's favored companion. Yea, even above the wise and the warriors of the valley with whom Legolas duly kept company during much of the day. But in times of leisure, it was Elrohir he sought. Elrohir in whom he confided some of his less than heroic moments and laughed freely with when treated to the younger twin's share of tales.

What others made of their strange alliance, Elrohir did not bother to discover. It was enough that this so very comely being with whom he was infatuated deemed him better company than others closer to his age and wealth of experience.

He felt the stroke of knuckles down his cheek and nearly shuddered from the heady sensations the touch set off. He looked at Legolas questioningly, wondering why the prince had caressed him. The Wood-elf was regarding him with similar wonder.

"Your skin is different," he commented. "It is neither as fair as mine nor as dark as that of the Men I have chanced to see."

Elrohir colored slightly but all he said was: "I am Half-elven."

Legolas considered his answer thoughtfully. "Would that my house had been as enriched," he judged. "Do you grow as Elves do or are you more alike to your mortal kin?"

"Elladan and I are more elven than mortal, or so _Naneth_ says," Elrohir affirmed. "But we own ourselves less keen of sight or hearing than pureblooded Elves and we do feel the bite of the elements when they are at their harshest. We are as fleet-footed however and stronger than most Elves."

"Stronger?"

The young Elf-knight nodded. "My father can easily throw most of our warriors and hold them down. Only the likes of Glorfindel can withstand him. I doubt it will be much different when I come to my full strength." He grinned impishly. "If you wait until I have grown up, you may find yourself pinned under this Peredhel." An instant later, Elrohir's grin vanished and he looked at Legolas in horror. "That was not– I did not mean—" he stammered.

Legolas softly laughed and placed a soothing hand on Elrohir's shoulder. "I am sure you did not," he said. "At least, not consciously." His eyes positively twinkled with mischief when Elrohir began to sputter in earnest protest. "Oh come now, you are at an age given to such flights of fantasy. And while you may not deliberately think about them, I warrant they hover in the back of your mind, waiting to unsettle you at the least opportune moment." He smiled sympathetically. "Do not be shamed by your feelings. I knew them well when I was your age. Indeed, I still know them to this day though I am more skilled at controlling them." He winked at the still flustered youth and added, "Or concealing them.

Elrohir peered at Legolas curiously. "Why would you need to conceal your feelings?" he queried.

"Because there are situations where they would be most unseemly," Legolas pointed out. "Such as when the Elf in question is not yet of age."

That left Elrohir speechless for several seconds. At length, he managed to get around the seeming thickness of his tongue to muster a comprehensible rejoinder. "And is there an Elf in question at the moment?" he hesitantly asked.

Legolas did not reply at once. Elrohir wondered if he had overstepped his bounds and started to apologize. But the prince suddenly gazed at him and the words died in his throat.

"Not only your skin is different but your scent as well. Did you know that?" he murmured. Elrohir caught his breath when the archer leaned close and delicately sniffed the side of his neck. "It makes me think of heather and moonlight and pools of cool, clean water. I wager when you are full grown, many will count it a rare privilege to know you. And a great honor to be the first to do so."

That was more than Elrohir could stand without shaming himself with a swoon. He came to a stop and stood still for a goodly while, awaiting the halt of the tremors that rendered his legs useless for walking and set his hands a-shaking.

"Forgive me, I should not speak of such matters with you," Legolas said though his voice was warm with laughter. "Here, give me your arm, _pen neth_, and permit me to be of aid."

Elrohir could only comply. He did not know whether to welcome their further proximity or regret it. Legolas's singular fragrance assaulted his senses all over again. He shyly looked at Legolas and saw that the archer was studying him in turn.

Summoning his courage, Elrohir declared: "I do not mind if you speak of these matters. Indeed, it pleases me that you do not think me beneath you to engage in such talk."

"I would never think you beneath me," Legolas agreed. He smiled broadly. "But I can think _of_ you thusly arrayed."

Before a once more dumbstruck Elrohir could respond, the woodland prince chuckled and, pulling his charmingly discomposed young friend along, conducted him back to the house.

Elrond watched them from his upper floor bedchamber balcony. "Do my eyes deceive me or has Legolas succeeded where others have not?" he mused. He glanced at his wife.

Celebrían shook her head. "Your eyes do not deceive you, husband. Methinks Elrohir has met his match."

Glossary:  
Naneth – Mother  
pen neth – young one

_To be continued..._


	4. Temperance

**Title:** Temperance  
**Characters:** Elladan and Elrohir, Legolas, Erestor, Glorfindel, Elrond and Celebrían  
**Prompt:** 055. Spirit  
**Rating:** PG  
**Summary:** An ill-conceived misadventure earns the twins much more than they bargained for.

"Elrohir, please rouse yourself."

"Let me be, Elladan. My head is splitting."

"As is mine. But there are far worse things than a headache."

The statement was followed by the sound of someone clearing his throat. Elrohir stiffened then raised his head off his pillow and turned it, warily unclosing his eyes. The countenance of his father swam into view. A most displeased countenance.

Though his head throbbed wretchedly, Elrohir hastily turned around and sat up. It proved a mistake for his stomach protested the sudden movement and chose to unburden itself then and there. Elrohir found himself heaving up its contents into a chamber pot that had been quickly shoved under his mouth. Once he was done, he weakly raised his head to thank the Elf who had come to his aid. Sympathetic sapphire eyes met his own bleary grey and he felt sick all over again.

"I am sorry, Legolas," he managed to croak.

"For overindulging in drink or for absconding with it in the first place?" Legolas mildly retorted.

Elrohir looked at the floor, willing it to open up and swallow him whole. A sidelong glance at Elladan told him his twin would gladly join him in an instant. Another glance behind their father informed him of the reason for Elladan's discomfiture.

Erestor and Glorfindel looked on reprovingly. The younger twin groaned inwardly. Neither Elf was a laggard in the consumption of liquor but both acknowledged what they could tolerate and expected others to likewise refrain from going beyond their limits. They would deem it galling that their two most able students should flout this particular lesson when they were supposed to be examples to their peers. Ah, there would be no peace to be found with these two today.

A cool, gentle hand cupped his hot cheek and he looked up into his mother's slightly anxious face.

"Can you stand up?" Celebrían queried. Elrohir nodded and did so.

Lowering their eyes to avoid the gazes of their largely reproachful audience, the twins followed their parents to the healing halls where Elrond dosed them with a noxious brew designed to counter the effects of the wine they had imbibed the night before. Celebrían thought it punishment enough for her sons' folly. Not so Elrond who chided them as soon as they were clear-minded enough to withstand a scolding.

Nor did it stop there.

"I doubt anything I say will make sense to you this morn, let alone stay in your minds long enough to join what store of knowledge you have somehow managed to gain," Erestor tartly told them when they stumbled and stuttered their way through the first lessons of the day. "Get yourselves to the archery yard. Mayhap Glorfindel will find better use for you."

But they fared no better with Glorfindel who coolly inquired whether they could see straight enough to ensure they did not loose their arrows into the wrong targets. "The next time you contemplate a career in thievery, do inform me beforehand that I need not trouble myself trying to make warriors out of you," he said in a voice edged with acerbity and disappointment.

Elrohir did not need to look at Elladan to know that his twin was close to tears. They both were but, being the elder, Elladan would feel the sting of the captain's lowered regard more keenly. He was the heir apparent after all and much was expected of him. His misery proved more than Elrohir could bear.

"'Twas I who suggested taking the wine," he earnestly confessed. "Indeed, Elladan tried to stop me but I would not desist. Please do not be so hard on him."

"Yet he joined you once you had the wine in hand," Glorfindel pointed out. "That hardly absolves him of transgressing."

"But—"

"You are kind to try and take all the blame upon yourself, brother," Elladan interrupted. "But Glorfindel is right. We are both at fault and must bear the consequences together."

After a moment's hesitation, Elrohir sighed and nodded. Neither twin protested the additional chores given them as chastisement. Not the polishing of the weapons in the armory or the peeling and chopping of vegetables for the day's meals or even cleaning out the stables, a chore they heartily despised. By nightfall, their spirits were at their lowest and they were both quite ready to swear off all alcoholic libations however tame.

Thus, they were quite surprised when, upon entering the Hall of Fire that evening, their parents welcomed them, Elrond as warmly as Celebrían. Both clung to him a trifle longer than usual as much in relief as in gratitude. Headed for their favorite couch afterward, they were hailed by Erestor and Glorfindel who were about to begin a game of Strategy.

The tacit invitation brought a smile to Elladan's face and he eagerly strode toward the two. About to follow, Elrohir was waylaid by a friendly grip on his wrist. Legolas led him to a nearby settee instead and bade him sit with him.

"I trust you are recovered from your day's penance," he softly said.

"Somewhat," Elrohir mumbled, his discomfort not quite eased.

"Why did you take the wine?" Legolas pressed.

Elrohir gulped, suddenly wishing he were at Elladan's side. "We are forbidden to take anything stronger than what Father deems within our tolerance," he admitted. "It made me envious when you brought out the Dorwinion last night and shared it with everyone and we could not have even a taste of it."

"You could have asked me," Legolas commented.

Elrohir shook his head. "I knew you would not go against my father's rule in this."

"And so you thought to sneak a taste. But it was more than a taste judging from the state you were in."

"That is not so. We only drank one cup apiece."

"Then how did you come to be intoxicated?"

Elrohir's cheeks burned. "We did not know how potent Dorwinion is and doubly so when taken on top of other liquor," he meekly explained. "At least, as far as Peredhil are concerned."

Legolas considered this carefully. "Then your father's rule is rooted in more than principle," he remarked. "You are more susceptible to strong drink than most Elves."

"Than all Elves," Elrohir corrected. He bowed his head. "I know it is to protect us that Father restricts our intake of spirits. He does not wish ill to befall us."

"And he has good reason to fear the worst with sons as beauteous as you. It would deeply distress him were you not in full possession of your senses when you consent to intimate relations with anyone."

Elrohir turned startled eyes on the archer. "No one would dare…" he began to say. He faltered then rallied and declared: "Elves do not take what is not freely given!"

"And who is to say a drunken yea is not freely given?" Legolas pointed out. "Not all Elves would abstain from taking advantage of a golden opportunity. Your family history attests to this." Seeing Elrohir's wide-eyed response, he frowned. "You had not thought of that. Forgive me, 'twas not my place to speak to you thusly."

"Nay, 'tis good of you to voice your concern," Elrohir assured him. "It does not pay to be ignorant of the less admirable qualities of any kindred. I thank you for enlightening me."

The archer regarded him thoughtfully. After a space, a slow roguish smile curved his lips.

"Will you be so thankful when you realize altruism alone did not compel me to speak as I did?" he said.

Elrohir stared at him. An instant later his face crimsoned in a full-blown blush. "You presume too much," he stammered.

Legolas softly laughed. "Do I? Must I ply you then with drink to gain your compliance?"

The younger twin caught his breath then turned his flaming face away for a spell. He felt Legolas take his hand and weave their fingers together. He glanced at the archer and saw that the latter was looking at him with candid appreciation. His embarrassment diminished as pleasure gradually took its place. He returned Legolas's gaze, his eyes beginning to sparkle once more.

"I did not quite speak the truth," he murmured.

"Regarding what?" Legolas asked.

"That you presume too much."

_To be continued..._


	5. Fallout

**Title:** Fallout  
**Characters:** Elrohir and Elladan, Legolas, Elrond, Celebrían, Gildor  
**Prompt:** 047. Heart  
**Rating:** PG  
**Summary:** Even the most enviable of relationships has its share of pitfalls.

Elrohir never imagined he could resent the advent of any of the Wandering Companies in Imladris. Always had he welcomed the presence of these itinerant Elves who called no particular realm home, fascinated as he was by their nomadic way of life. And Gildor Inglorion was invariably kind and forthcoming with his tales of the lands and folk outside the valley. Elrond's sons oft spent their days following him about, asking nigh innumerable questions about his adventures in the Wild.

But now, it was not Elrohir who was spending an inordinate amount of time with Gildor. And Elladan kept away as well in a gesture of brotherly sympathy and solidarity.

The younger twin pondered his chances as he made his way to the archery yard. He suspected Legolas's schedule was already filled and there would be little time to spare for him. That had been the case for many a day now. Nevertheless, the intrepid Elf-knight had to make the attempt. Just this last time, he somberly promised himself.

As expected, he found the archer assiduously honing his already considerable bowman's skills. When the Wood-elf was done, Elrohir joined him in gathering his arrows.

"My thanks, Elrohir," Legolas said.

Elrohir handed over the arrows he had collected. "You are truly the best archer I know, Legolas," he remarked as he watched the prince return the bolts to his quiver. "Would that I could do half as well as you."

Legolas smiled at him. "I think you will do better than that. You and Elladan have the makings of exceptional archers."

"Do we?" Elrohir beamed. "I am glad. I should like to excel in all the martial skills if possible."

"And I would be glad to teach you what I can."

"Oh! Then what about now?" Elrohir hopefully suggested. "My morning is free for Erestor has been tasked by Father to help him correct some erroneous manuscripts."

Legolas slung his quiver over his shoulder. "I wish I could, _pen neth_"—young one—he replied. "But I promised Gildor that I would join him for a morning's hike."

As if on cue, Gildor strolled up to them. He warmly greeted Elrohir, then asked Legolas if he was ready.

"I am," Legolas answered. He looked at Elrohir. "Another time perhaps?"

Though he had half expected the rebuff, Elrohir found it no easier to take. Nonetheless, he managed to evenly say, "Aye, another time."

But he did not seek Legolas after that. It would simply be too painful to be turned down once more.

"You should try again," Elladan urged him a few evenings later while they watched some of the visiting Elves perform with Lindir in the Hall of Fire.

"To what purpose?" Elrohir murmured. "It is clear his interest in me is at an end."

"You do not know that."

"Elladan, what can children like us offer in the way of entertainment compared to an Elf of Gildor's experience?" Elrohir looked down gloomily. "And Gildor can meet certain of his needs that I cannot as yet."

Elladan stared at him. "You have seen evidence of intimacy between them?"

"Nay, but I cannot imagine it otherwise. He is a hot-blooded Wood-elf and beautiful besides. Think you Gildor has not made an overture?"

"But that does not mean he accepted," Elladan insisted.

"Oh?" Elrohir nodded his head toward the hall entrance. "Then what do you make of that?"

With some consternation, Elladan saw Legolas laughingly follow Gildor out of the hall. He turned back to his brother just as Elrohir stood up.

"I am tired," the younger twin tightly whispered. Giving Elladan no chance to speak, he departed as well.

Morning found him in as morose a mood as the evening before. Elrond and Celebrían wondered about his uncharacteristic taciturnity at breakfast but he refused to reveal the cause. Elladan, on the other hand, did his best to subtly succor him in the same way that Elrohir had oft seen him through his own periods of pining.

His efforts came to naught however when, just as they were finishing their meal, Legolas entered the dining hall with Gildor. Elrohir paled, then flushed. Mumbling an excuse to his parents, he rose and tried to leave unnoticed by the archer.

But as luck would have it, Legolas looked in his direction. The prince flashed a friendly grin at him. For once, Elrohir could not respond in kind. Averting his eyes, he hurried out a side door. His unexpected evasion did not escape his parents' notice.

"Do you know what is amiss with Elrohir?" Elrond questioned his older son.

Elladan reluctantly nodded. He glanced at his mother when she reached across the table and laid a hand on his arm.

"If it is in your power to set aright whatever ails your brother, then do so, dear one," she counseled. "Do not let his pride hinder you in aiding him."

After a moment's hesitation, Elladan rose to his feet and walked to Legolas. The archer was seated with Gildor and some of his band, but his frequent glances at the door through which Elrohir had exited betrayed his concern. When Elladan neared him, he stood, an uncertain smile on his face.

"I trust you had a good night," Elladan ventured after exchanging greetings with the archer. His eyes briefly strayed to Gildor.

Legolas saw the furtive glance and frowned. He decided to dispense with diplomacy.

"Elrohir has made himself scarce of late," he remarked. "Have I given him reason to be displeased with my company?"

Elladan pursed his lips then said, "If you wish to know his reasons, I suggest you go to him now. There is a path by the east wing of the house that leads up to a high ledge on the slope behind. It overlooks the valley. We like to go there when we are – troubled." He turned to leave, then paused and looked back at the archer, a warning in his eyes. "Do not bring anyone with you, else you will not know my brother's company again." Whereupon, he rejoined his parents.

Legolas only lingered long enough to take leave of his companions. After that, he wasted no more time taking Elladan's advice.

He found the path easily and swiftly climbed the steep slope. It was thickly wooded in this section, which effectively hid the trail from any unaware of its existence. He soon came to a flat expanse of ground shaded by an overhanging outcropping of solid rock.

Elrohir sat on a spongy mat of heather and grass, knees drawn up with his arms around them, eyes focused on the panorama of forest and streams and, way below, the clustered homes of the vale's dwellers. Legolas took a moment to admire the comely picture he made before stepping onto the ledge.

So quiet was he that Elrohir did not mark his presence until he was at his side. He looked up in surprise when Legolas sank down beside him. The archer regarded the vista before them.

"Small wonder that you like this place," he commented. Elrohir did not answer but only dipped his head in assent. Legolas sighed and shifted closer. "You have been avoiding my company these past few days," he said.

Elrohir stiffened but he did not face the archer. "On the contrary, I have sought it but you have not seen fit to bestow it on me." He hugged his knees closer. "Not since Gildor and his folk arrived."

Silence met his reply. A moment later, Legolas raised a hand and gripped his shoulder. The prince contritely said, "I am sorry, I did not mean to neglect you. It shall not happen again."

Elrohir looked sidelong at him. "Please do not apologize for what was only to be expected," he murmured. "It was kind of you to spare me so much of your time but, verily, it was never possible for me to hold your attention indefinitely."

When Legolas started to protest, he forestalled the archer with a firm shake of his head. "I have neither the depth of knowledge nor the wealth of experience you undoubtedly seek in your companions." He smiled a little sadly. "I am only a child after all."

Legolas grimaced. "Knowledge and experience do go a long way in keeping a conversation lively. But if the desire for another's company goes no further than that, then they count for little." He squeezed Elrohir's shoulder. "I will not deny that I enjoy talking with Gildor. And I admit my elation over learning much from him caused me to behave so poorly toward you. For that I beg your pardon, Elrohir. But know that I have no intention of going beyond talk with Gildor. I would make him a friend but not a lover."

Elrohir sharply glanced at him. "You did not—" He caught himself and flushed.

"Pass the night in his bed," Legolas finished for him. "We parted after a few drinks in his quarters."

"Surely he importuned you," Elrohir softly said.

"He did but I declined."

Elrohir frowned. "Why? He is handsome and kind and highborn. And he has seen much that many have not. What was lacking?"

"He does not touch my heart." At Elrohir's puzzled expression, Legolas explained: "When I was newly come of age, I was as indiscriminate in my choices of partners as any callow youth. But time and circumstances have taught me to forego mere dalliances in favor of true intimacy."

He reached for one of Elrohir's hands and clasped it in his. "I must feel something more than simple lust to engage in bodily union with another," the archer continued. "I would counsel you to learn from my mistakes, _pen neth_. If and when you choose to share yourself thusly, look beyond the heat of the night to the cold morning after. Ask yourself first, 'Will it be a memory to cherish or regret?'"

The younger twin regarded him curiously. "It seems you rued a number of your early experiences."

Legolas sighed. "I was young and eager and heedless. I did not give thought to what my partners wanted of me; only what I desired of them." He looked keenly at Elrohir. "You are as I, a king's son though your father refused the crown. Many will covet you for that alone. Holding yourself aloof will be your best defense. Yet it can also be your worst weapon, hurting those whose desires go further than lust for your name or beauty. Prudence tempered with gentleness will go a long way in easing hurt feelings."

Elrohir nodded thoughtfully. "Have you ever given your heart?" he asked.

"If I had, I would be wed by now," the archer pointed out. "I held some affection for a chosen few but never so great that I was tempted to bind my spirit for eternity."

Emboldened by Legolas's forthrightness, Elrohir dared another query. "Who are you most likely to espouse: an _ellon_ or an _elleth_?"

Golden eyebrows rose in some amusement. "Wherefore your question?"

Elrohir shrugged though his cheeks colored slightly. "I would like to know your true preference," he honestly replied.

Legolas faintly smiled. "My first experiences were with _ellith,_" he recounted. "But when I started training in my father's army, I also trysted with _ellyn_. However, being heir has its limitations and I have been encouraged to dally with maids. Not that my father forbids me to bind to an _ellon_. But for so long as we live east of the Sea, there is no certitude of life. He would naturally prefer that there be another generation after me to ensure our house continues to hold the crown. Needless to say, I was as determined as he to do as duty dictates." Legolas paused. "But now… that is no longer the case."

Elrohir's breath hitched. "Why so?" he asked in a hushed voice.

Blue eyes met grey. "I came to Imladris," Legolas simply said.

The color in Elrohir's cheeks heightened. But the young Elf did not jump to any conclusions. That would be foolish and only asking for disappointment. After all, he was still many years short of his majority. However, he could be frank about one thing.

"I hope that does not change too soon."

"It will not."

"How can you know that?"

"Because the reason for it still has some growing to do."

Elrohir gazed searchingly at the archer. "You will need to be very patient," he reminded him.

Legolas chuckled. "I have gone without for nigh three score years. What is another two decades or so?"

"You will abstain then?" Elrohir said somewhat doubtfully.

"I told you, I do not share myself lightly."

Elrohir studied him for a long spell. A soft exhalation escaped his lips and he turned his eyes once more to the view of the valley.

"I have lessons," he murmured. "We had best be getting back."

They rose to their feet, Legolas regarding Elrohir with some concern. But just before he stepped off the ledge onto the path, Elrohir turned back and looked at him, his eyes alight with quiet joy.

"Thank you," he whispered. Before Legolas realized what he was about, he stretched up and pressed his lips lightly to the Wood-elf's cheek. Then he was hurrying down the path.

Legolas stared after him in astonishment. He raised a hand to where Elrohir's lips had touched his cheek. His eyes gleamed and the corners of his mouth turned up.

For this alone the archer deemed his sojourn in Imladris well worth his time. He swiftly followed Elrohir down the slope.

Glossary:  
wherefore – for what reason (_archaic_)  
ellon (pl. ellyn) – male Elf  
elleth (pl. ellith) – Elf-maid

_To be continued..._


	6. Crossroad

**Title:** Crossroad  
**Characters:** Elladan & Elrohir, Legolas, Erestor  
**Prompt:** 011. Red  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** A piece of obscure history plays a part in further shaping Legolas and Elrohir's friendship.  
**Author's Note:** Please bear with this indulgence of my whim for incorporating odd historical traditions and the like. The practice mentioned here however is not a custom of any specific culture or era, but rather an amalgam of bits and pieces from various traditions.

_Lairë_ T.A. 163  
The treasury of Imladris was quite unlike anything Legolas had expected. Great wealth there was to be found within the four walls of the windowless chamber, but it was not necessarily measured in coin or baubles alone. Artifacts, some of fairly recent vintage, others of almost immeasurable age, reposed cheek by jowl with strongboxes filled with gold and silver and precious gems. Shelves and chests overflowed with everything from antique weaponry and heirloom ornaments to elaborate tapestries and artfully crafted toys.

The archer gingerly turned the delicate pages of an ancient tome saved from the ruins of Nargothrond. There were many more books like it, as well as musical manuscripts and art from a time long lost to the ages. These were works deemed nigh irreplaceable and thus had been consigned not to the public archives but to this guarded repository of riches.

He glanced up and saw that the brethren Elladan and Elrohir were still absorbed in putting together a near life-sized physician's mannikin spirited out of Doriath ere its fall millennia ago. Erestor had assigned them the task for their morning's lesson.

Legolas had come upon the three as they made their way to the treasury. History was one of the subjects Elrond desired his sons to master and, in his determination that they fulfilled their father's wish, Erestor did not restrict himself to the written or spoken word when teaching the twins. It was not uncommon for him to instruct them in the use of something in addition to having them read about it.

Replacing the book on its shelf, Legolas wandered to a glass-fronted cabinet that housed opulent tableware. He looked the contents over wonderingly. Gold-rimmed plates, silver drinking cups, bejeweled cutlery and fine crystalware – they looked very costly but he did not recognize their origins. He was only certain that they were not of elven make. Mannish perhaps?

Reaching into the cabinet, he plucked a large crimson-hued glass goblet and examined it with interest. The body of the vessel was overlaid with gold into which tracings had been deftly etched. A moment later, his eyes widened when he recognized the delicate markings as representations of couples in various acts of bodily intimacy. A closer look and he realized the tiny figures were of mortal men and women, not Elves.

"What is this?" he asked his companions, running his fingers over the unexpectedly lascivious tracings.

When they saw what he held, the twins could not help snickering. Even Erestor smiled as he came to the archer's side.

"This is a trysting cup," he explained. "It was used by the Númenorean royal family for their sons' first night rites."

"First night rites?"

Erestor nodded. "It was the custom of the Edain and the Númenoreans after them that when a youth came of age his passage into manhood was marked by the loss of his virginity. Arnor still observes the custom today. In the royal family, the rite was further formalized in that the young prince chose his partner from amongst the guests at his majority celebrations. He indicated his choice by handing his cup of wine to the intended lady." Erestor tapped the rim of the goblet. "She signified her consent by drinking from the cup at the same place as he had."

Legolas frowned. "And if she refused?"

The counsellor snorted. "It was deemed highly impolitic to refuse. There is no record of anyone rejecting a royal overture. Besides, it was counted a great honor to be granted a prince's first night."

"Even if one was already wed or promised to another?" the archer said disbelievingly.

"Even then. Indeed, a lady who had graced the bed of a newly come-of-age prince was accorded much respect at court. And it was not unheard of for the king to bestow wealth and privileges on her father, husband or betrothed, as the case may be, as reward for her service to the crown."

"Incredible." Legolas returned the goblet. "And I thought I could no longer be surprised by anything these mortals might do."

"You may yet bear witness to it if you return for the twins' majority celebration," Erestor said. "Arnor's king is kin to the Peredhil and will likely attend. If I know Elrond at all, he will pay homage to that kinship by having his sons enact the rite. That is, if they desire to mark their coming of age thusly," he quickly added. "Elrond would never compel them to do anything just for political expediency."

"I should hope not," Legolas wryly commented. He briefly studied the brethren who had returned their attention to the mannikin. "And will you?" he softly queried.

They looked up and at each other. At length, Elrohir shrugged. "If I feel inclined to mark my majority thusly and do not find it discomfiting to have my choice for first night known, I might consider it," he said.

But Elladan shook his head. "Not I," the older twin declared. "'Tis bad enough that some expect us to carry on such a heathen tradition. I will not have my choice or lack of one revealed to everybody. But then, you have always been brave about such things," he told his brother, admiration limning his voice.

"You mean foolhardy," Elrohir mirthfully shot back. His smile faded somewhat when he noted Legolas's thoughtful expression.

"First night," the archer murmured. "Such an odd tradition. Well, it will certainly liven up the proceedings." He grinned of a sudden. "If only to see for myself how such a rite is conducted, I think I will attend your majority celebration."

Elrohir felt his cheeks burn. Elbereth, it seemed as if he had spent the past many months with his face perpetually awash in red!

"I did not say I would do it," he huffed to the others' amusement. "Only that I would consider it." Visibly perturbed, he lifted the mannikin and presented it to Erestor. "Is there aught more to be done with this?" he asked.

Erestor smiled approvingly. "You have both done well. Perhaps you share Glorfindel's facility for assembly as well as the battle arts."

He took the mannikin and laid it in its storage case. The twins and Legolas carefully extinguished the lamps and candles then followed Erestor out of the treasury.

As they walked down the hallway back to the main wing of the house, Legolas asked Elrohir: "Should you decide to uphold the custom, will you use that cup?"

The youth sighed. "I do not wish to," he admitted. "It is a mite too obvious for my taste."

Elladan chortled while Legolas had to grin. "It is quite lacking in subtlety," the archer agreed.

"Nevertheless, you will need to use it for diplomacy's sake," Elladan pointed out. "It would please our Dúnedain kin."

"Unless they offer the use of theirs," Erestor interjected. He explained to Legolas: "Valandil of Andúnië commissioned a trysting cup for his own heirs and that is what is used in Arnor today. The one in the treasury belonged to the royal house and Elendil turned it over to Elrond along with the other mementos he saved from the Downfall of Númenor."

The soft ringing of a bell resounded through the corridor, informing them that it was time for the midday meal. They spoke no more of the morning's elucidations but quickened their pace to join the others in the dining hall.

oOoOoOo

"Why do you hesitate to tell him?" Elladan demanded. "Do you not trust him enough?"

Elrohir scowled. "This has nothing to do with trust! Would you be so confident were you in my place? It is not so easy as that, Elladan!"

The brethren strove to keep their voices down. They were standing in a public corridor after all and neither was keen to have their secrets become fodder for gossip and speculation in the valley.

"You are retreating ere you have even begun, brother," Elladan remarked. "Valar, I never thought you to be so craven."

"I am not craven!" Elrohir retorted, stung to the quick. A moment later, he caught his breath as a familiar figure approached them. "Elladan—" he whispered, his cheeks paling.

But before Elladan could reply, Legolas was upon them. He smiled at Elrohir, indicating the garden porch entrance with a tilt of his fair head. "Shall we?" he said.

With a last barely concealed look of appeal to his twin, Elrohir accompanied the archer out into the garden for their customary evening stroll. He did his best to hide his anxiety. To no avail. It did not take long for Legolas to sense his unease.

Ordinarily, they would either fall into easy conversation or lapse into companionable silence. Such was not the case tonight. Elrohir's attempts at dialogue seemed stilted at best, disjointed at worst. The archer did not wait long to ask him if there was something wrong.

Deciding that confession was less burdensome than dissemblance, Elrohir hesitantly said: "I know it is too soon to broach the matter, but I must say it before I lose my courage and, verily, I will lose it if I do not say it now."

Legolas placed a calming hand on his shoulder. "What is this thing that unsettles you so?" he coaxed.

"You will likely laugh but…" Elrohir drew a deep bolstering breath. "I would like to make a request of you. Should I choose to mark my coming of age as my mortal forebears did, it would please me if you would take first night rites with me."

He winced at the patent look of surprise on the archer's face, which was soon followed by a slight frown.

"I am not demanding that you make any promises at this early date," Elrohir quickly clarified. "Only that you consider the possibility of shepherding me through – through…" His voice trailed away as embarrassment burgeoned and his courage waned. "Please do not laugh," he finally said in a small voice.

Fingers slipped under his chin and he was compelled to look up. He swallowed hard upon meeting Legolas's gaze. The archer's hand slid to his nape and soothingly rubbed it.

"Why would I laugh, _pen neth_?"—young one—the prince gently said. "Indeed, how could anyone treat such a gift with anything less than reverence and pleasure?" The corners of his mouth tilted upward in a warm smile. "It is, as you say, much too soon to commit ourselves to any course of action," Legolas continued. "But were it not for that, I would waste no more time in consideration and grant your request forthwith."

Elrohir gazed at him in disbelief. But soon enough, he beamed gratefully. "I am truly fortunate to have gained your amity," he said in a hushed voice. "You are as kind and noble as you are beautiful, Legolas."

To both their surprises, Legolas suddenly blushed. While Elrohir stared at him in wonder, Legolas raised a hand to a heated cheek. He ruefully laughed.

"Who would have thought that I could be abashed by a youngling's blandishments?" he murmured.

His words spurred Elrohir into swift protest. "I uttered only the truth," he asserted, not troubling to hide his youthful adulation of the archer. "If that truth be construed as mere praise, what of it? You are more than worthy of it."

His heartfelt compliment earned him so heart-stopping a smile that he nigh forgot to breathe. Eyes oddly aglitter, Legolas softly said, "Take heed, Elf-knight. You might inspire far more than mere gratitude if you continue to lavish me with such high praise. And that will not do at all until you have grown a little more."

With that, he firmly escorted his speechless charge back to the house. But he did not see fit to withdraw his hand from the young Elf's nape.

Glossary:  
lairë – Quenya for summer  
mannikin – an old, variant spelling of mannequin  
Valandil – first Lord of Andúnië, he was the son of Silmariën, eldest daughter of Tar-Elendil, fourth King of Númenor. Valandil is the direct ancestor of Elendil, founder of Arnor and Gondor.

_To be continued..._


	7. Attestation

**Title:** Attestation  
**Characters:** Elladan & Elrohir, Legolas  
**Prompt:** 064. Fall  
**Rating:** PG  
**Summary:** The turn of a season portends the beginning of a new phase in Legolas and Elrohir's friendship.

_Yavië_ T.A. 167  
Elrohir savagely batted away a leaf that had dared to waft down onto his face. His brother glanced at him with amusement.

"There is no need to vent your spleen on an innocent leaf," Elladan mildly reproved. "'Tis hardly its fault that you chose to come this way."

Elrohir glared at him then subsided with a sigh when Elladan only responded with an indulgent grin. "I hate autumn," he muttered.

The older twin smothered a snicker. "Since when?" he speciously wondered. "You have always enjoyed the onset of leaf-fall. Why this sudden dislike?"

Elrohir kicked at a mound of leaves just as a sharp breeze swept down the orchard lane, snatching up the scattering foliage into a flurry of rust, brown and gold. The Elf-knight forlornly stared at the swirling mass.

Elladan draped an arm around his shoulder. "You act as if this will be the last you will see of him," he said.

"It may be," Elrohir retorted.

"And it may not," Elladan countered. He shook Elrohir slightly. "I do not think Legolas intends it to be."

A hint of color stained his brother's cheeks. "He is his father's heir," Elrohir pointed out. "He cannot always do as he desires."

"Nor can we, yet we manage to have our way enough to suit us," Elladan reminded him. "And Legolas does not strike me as one who permits others to order his life for him."

"Nay, but his sense of duty is as strong as ours," Elrohir said. "There are certain obligations he is bound to uphold."

"Obligations he is ready to circumvent should the need arise. Or so you told me."

"He did say this."

"And he also said that he would consider your request." At Elrohir's nod, Elladan lightly punched his arm. "Then why so doleful? Do not such assurances please you?"

"I am pleased," Elrohir averred. "I never expected that he would treat me thusly. But there is no surety that he can indeed fulfill his intentions. Not always. And not when the well-being of the Greenwood folk is at stake. Between the needs of his people and the wishes of a single Elf from another land, what think you will he choose?"

Elladan snorted. "And what need could possibly persist without end? Really, Elrohir, you are creating obstacles where there are none as yet!" He chuckled, earning a frown from his brother. "You have truly fallen hard that 'tis I who must now hearten you when, in times past, 'twas you who oft cheered me up."

Before Elrohir could reply, Elladan grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him back down the lane toward the house.

"Do not waste your time fretting over what might or might not come to be when you still have a whole fortnight's worth of his company," he told his protesting twin. "Be glad for what you _do_ have, Elrohir!"

Effectively silenced, Elrohir stared at him in amazement. "Thank you," he murmured sheepishly. "I have indeed been wallowing in baseless fancies. In this you have proved wiser than I, brother."

Elladan smirked. "Then perhaps Father should reconsider training you to be my chief counsellor," he suggested. He barely evaded an indignant swat.

Elrohir did as his brother counselled and indeed found much to enjoy in the remaining two weeks of the woodland prince's stay. Altogether he counted that summer one of the most memorable of his young life and he had ample reason to believe that Legolas deemed it so as well. Nonetheless, as the archer's visit drew to a close and Legolas prepared for his journey home, the young Elf-knight could not help the pangs of imminent loss that smote him each passing day.

oOoOoOo

The morning of his departure, Legolas found a slender package at the door to his bedchamber. Wrapped in a swath of dark blue cloth was a knife encased in a fine leather sheath. A long, white-hilted knife of a make foreign to the Wood-elf. Ah, wait, he had seen Glorfindel brandish a blade of similar design. He twirled it experimentally and was delighted at how right the hilt felt in his hand. Examining it further, he saw that his name had been inscribed on one side of the blade, his royal insignia on the other. His eyes gleamed with pleasure at such an apt and beauteous gift.

He immediately sought out Elrohir, drawing him aside to sit apart from the others in the dining hall. Smiling, he showed the knife at his belt to the youth and warmly thanked him. Elrohir lifted shining eyes to him.

"I am so glad it pleases you," he said.

"How did you come by it?" Legolas inquired.

"It is one of a pair that was gifted on me my last begetting day," Elrohir explained. "Elladan received a similar set. Father and his brother Elros received them from Gil-galad when they first came to his court in Lindon. Elros gave instructions ere he died that certain of his belongings be sent to _Ada_. His knives were among them." Elrohir's smile turned just a shade pensive. "'Twas to me that _Ada_ gave those knives because he said he saw something of his brother in me."

"Will he not be displeased that you have parted with one?" Legolas said with concern.

Elrohir shook his head. "I told him I wanted to give you something dear to me," he replied. "As an expression of my gratitude at earning your friendship."

The archer's eyes softened. "Then I will treasure this gift all the more," he declared.

They were just about done with breakfast when Legolas's people approached and informed him that all was in readiness for their departure. Elrohir did his best to school his expression, pressing his lips together to keep them from trembling. But something of his sorrow showed through nonetheless.

"Will you see me off?" Legolas asked.

Elrohir nodded, not trusting himself to speak without betraying himself in some way. He walked with Legolas to the courtyard in silence. Elladan joined him when the archer turned to speak to their parents.

He remained subdued as he watched Legolas thank Elrond and Celebrían for their hospitality ere bidding them farewell. Elladan surreptitiously rubbed his back in sympathy and he glanced at his twin, casting him a rather crooked smile. He was quite startled therefore when Legolas took him by his elbow and, with a tilt of his head, indicated he desired a private moment with him.

They walked to Legolas's horse but the archer did not mount at once. Instead, he solemnly gazed at the younger of Elrond's sons who had more than simply befriended him.

"I will miss you," he said. He placed a hand on Elrohir's shoulder and felt the faint tremor that proved the youth less than composed. "Will you write me? Keep me informed of what you are about?"

Elrohir swallowed and nodded. "And will you do the same?" he asked.

That earned him a chuckle. "Of course. How else shall I let you know if I decide to grant your request?"

Elrohir flushed at the teasing reminder of his boldness. Of a sudden, he felt a surge of urgency and he reached up to touch the hand that gripped his shoulder. Looking earnestly at the prince, he said just a tad breathlessly: "Legolas, the rite itself means little to me. I may well follow Elladan's example and choose not to observe it. Indeed, I do not know if I will be ready come my majority to – to be intimate with anyone. That is, anyone other than you. Should that be the case… will my request still hold merit with you?"

He shivered under the Wood-elf's gaze. He felt Legolas's hand turn under his to clasp it then caught his breath when the archer drew their joined hands toward himself to press them to his breast. Over his heart, Elrohir realized with a thrill.

"It matters not how and when you finally decide to share yourself, _pen neth_"—young one—Legolas softly assured him. "To be asked to guide you in your first intimacy is in itself a great honor. I am deeply moved that you would entrust me with so precious a milestone in your life." He smiled at the Elf-knight with aching tenderness. "Until we meet again, Elrohir Elrondion."

Elrohir felt an answering smile curve his mouth. "Until we meet again," he responded, his voice now steady.

He was much lighter of heart as he watched the Greenwood Elves ride out of the courtyard. Especially when Legolas threw him a parting grin, his hand going to his belt to touch the knife that hung from it. With that, Elrohir broke into a smile so dazzling Elladan covered his eyes in spurious defense against its brilliance.

Glossary:  
yavië – Quenya for autumn  
Ada – Papa  
Elrondion – son of Elrond

_To be continued..._


	8. Propensity

**Title:** Propensity  
**Characters:** Elladan & Elrohir  
**Prompt:** 084. He  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** The twins ponder the difference between elemental desire and deep-rooted passion.

Imladris, T.A. 174  
As the summer progressed, the days grew steadily balmier, the comfortable temperatures at the onset of the season supplanted occasionally by the sweltering heat that could at times beset the north of Middle-earth. It was not a frequent occurrence by any standard but when such uncommon warmth did afflict the region, it was not unheard of for its denizens to seek respite in the cooling waters of sundry waterways. Not even the Elves.

The brethren Elladan and Elrohir had that in mind as they made their way to the tributary stream by the Last Homely House that fed the majestic Bruinen. The sultry weather troubled them a bit more than it did the other Elves in the valley. Only their father shared their discomfort; understood the annoyance of moisture profuse enough to leave a sticky film on one's skin. Not that the Peredhil perspired as excessively as the mortals to whom they were distant kin. They were far more elven than they were mannish after all. But the kinship was there nonetheless and they were just that slightly more susceptible to the extremes of weather.

Elladan wiped his moist cheeks with the sleeve of his equally damp shirt. He glanced at his brother who was likewise discomfited by the way his sweat-laden attire clung to his body in telling places.

"Confound this infernal heat!" Elrohir muttered. "How I wish _Ada_ would do something about it. He cannot possibly feel more at ease in this warmth than us."

"He is not at ease," Elladan affirmed. "Last I saw them, _Nana_ was insisting that he soak himself in a cool bath ere he met with Círdan's emissaries. She said it would do his dignity much harm were he to faint from heatstroke in front of his guests."

Elrohir chuckled. "Sometimes, I think _Nana_ is the more sensible between them." He sighed as a tiny rivulet streaked down the side of his neck. "I do not truly expect _Ada_ to use his ring for something as petty as banishing a heat wave. It is just so warm!"

"I know. Take heart, we are almost there," Elladan soothed him.

'There' was the shallower portion of the tributary where the current was also weaker. The path leading to it sloped downward and the stream was slightly hidden from plain view thanks to the many trees and shrubs that had taken root along its banks and a scattering of boulders higher up. For those reasons, it was a favored spot among the vale's dwellers for intimate picnics and the usual accompanying dip in its bracing waters.

As the youngsters hastened toward the stream, they failed in their eagerness to notice that there were others who had availed of it ahead of them. Only when they came in full sight of the stream did they realize their error. A cacophony of squeals and shrieks greeted their arrival while they stopped short in their tracks, eyes widening in dismay and chagrin at the sight before them. Even as the maidens they had burst upon swiftly dipped below the water or snatched up shifts and gowns to hide white limbs and shoulders, the soft swell of breasts and sweetly rounded hips and bottoms, the twins turned on their heels to escape only to collide with yet another Elf-maid as she hurried forward.

Red-faced and abashed beyond belief, the brethren stammered their apologies while scrambling around the equally flustered Elf-maid and raced back the way they came. Behind them, they heard some of the indignant outbursts change to giggles while someone chastised the negligent maiden they had bumped into for failing to give adequate warning either to them or to Lord Elrond's sons.

Coming to a stop a safe distance away, the twins warily looked at each other. An instant later, they burst into snickers, shaking their heads at their unexpectedly revealing mishap.

"I think a little further upstream," Elladan decided when they stopped laughing to catch their breaths.

"Agreed," Elrohir replied and turned to lead the way.

When they finally reached their destination, they quickly shed their clothes. As Elrohir dropped his breeches, Elladan noticed the less than languid condition of the younger twin's nether region.

"You were not unaffected by the sight of them, were you?" he grinned.

"Neither were you," Elrohir retorted, pointedly staring at the tented state of his brother's trousers.

He waded into the water, sighing blissfully as blessed coolness enveloped him. Elladan followed swiftly. For the next several minutes, they bathed in silence, awaiting the easing of their bodies from their earlier discomfort.

At length, they sat themselves in the shallows by the banks, their sulky moods largely tempered by their leisurely swim. Some seven years had passed since that memorable summer when a Wood-elven prince had indelibly made a mark on Elrohir's heart and Elladan had admitted if only to his brother the awakening of his. In that time, the brethren had grown ever more comely of countenance and their fair forms held the promise of their forebears' enviable heights and formidable strength. Even now, their lean frames were taut with young muscle; scarcely a hint of the softness of childhood still remained to mar the sleek lines of their limbs and torsos.

In the midst of idle conversation, Elrohir noted the mild crease in his twin's temple. "What bothers you?" he suddenly asked.

Elladan glanced at him. "Not so much bothers as puzzles me," he confessed. "Elrohir, did you—?" He paused and turned to face his twin. "I know you were as roused as I by that sight of them," he tried again.

Elrohir shrugged. "It was natural enough," he said. "They are passing fair after all. And 'tis not often that we get a glimpse of the graces they hide so demurely beneath their gowns."

"More than a glimpse," Elladan chuckled. "Still…" He grew serious once more. "Do you feel aught now that you are away from them?"

The Elf-knight stared at him. "If you mean do I lust for them…" When Elladan nodded, he shook his head. "Not really. It was a pleasure to look at their bodies but I do not pine for more. At least, not the way I long for—" He stopped and colored.

"Not the way you long for Legolas's tutelage," Elladan supplied. When his brother said nothing, the older twin pursed his lips. "Are we made for loving male-kind then?" he murmured. "For I feel as you. I enjoyed my glimpse of their charms but I am not particularly interested in going beyond that. There was nothing of the – the desire for more as when male-flesh is bared before me."

"All male-flesh?" Elrohir delicately probed.

Elladan looked at him, faintly flushed, but thought about it nonetheless. "I do get curious," he finally conceded. "I wonder what it would be like to be intimate with another male. But I do not wish to share myself with just any Elf."

"It has to be him," Elrohir stated. Seeing Elladan's flush deepen, he murmured: "Then we are agreed on this."

He looked up at the clear sky. Nary a cloud blotted that vast azure expanse. "Occasionally, when we train with the warriors, I am beset by strange sensations. I was frightened when I first knew them. I wondered what they meant. But then, Legolas came and I felt them more strongly than ever. And I realized then what they were. Only… only now I understand that those first stirrings were little more than visceral reactions to the forms I find most pleasing. With Legolas, it goes deeper. I know my body wants him. But even more than that, _I_ want him."

Elladan soberly regarded his brother. "Thank you," he said at last. "You have helped me understand my feelings."

The younger twin snorted. "But I think you did understand what it was you felt, Elladan," he insisted. "You only wanted to know if I shared it. To confirm that you are not alone in this."

Elladan stared at him, eyebrows rising in uncanny imitation of their sire. "I take back what I said," he remarked. "Father was right to choose you to be my chief counsellor."

Elrohir grinned. "If you agree that _Ada_ is the wisest Elf in Middle-earth, then of course he was right."

"I thought you said _Nana_ was the more sensible one," Elladan reminded him.

"Sometimes I question whether wisdom and sensibleness are the same," Elrohir mused. "Else, how is it that the Wise have not solved Arda's problems until now?"

Elladan guffawed at the irreverent swipe. He was about to reply when someone hailed them from behind. They glanced back to see one of the scribes approaching them. They did not move but waited for him to come to them. When he did, he looked down at them in some disconcertment, conscious that they were unclothed and obviously enjoying a moment of leisure.

"Ah, forgive me," he said, his cheeks reddening. "I did not mean to intrude but Master Erestor asked me to look for you."

The twins glanced at each other and had to grin. The Elf was a new member of Erestor's staff and just barely past his majority. His manner betrayed his excitement at being tasked with searching for Lord Elrond's sons and delivering whatever message had been entrusted to him.

"What does Erestor need of us?" Elladan kindly queried.

"Oh, actually, 'tis Elrohir he seeks," the scribe amended. "A letter has arrived for him. From Eryn Galen."

Elrohir was on his feet in an instant, uncaring of his unclad state, unheeding of the scribe's embarrassed averting of his eyes.

"Eryn Galen!" he exclaimed, snatching up his clothes. "Is it from Legolas?"

"Aye," the scribe answered, not quite knowing where to direct his gaze now that Elladan had risen from the water as well. He respectfully kept his eyes everywhere but on the two young Elves while they donned their clothes. However, when the twins hurried back to the house, he finally stared after them, a gleam of appreciation limning his perusal.

After a while, he ruefully shook his head. Fruitless to wonder about what was beyond his reach. Elrond's sons were meant for Elves of higher stature and greater renown than he. Elves like the Greenwood realm's valorous crown prince or Rivendell's own hallowed lords. Verily, only the noblest Elves to walk Middle-earth could count themselves worthy of these beauteous scions of the Mariner's house. With a wistful sigh, he slowly followed in their wake.

Glossary:  
Ada – Papa  
Nana – Mama  
Eryn Galen – Greenwood the Great

_To be continued..._


	9. Becoming

**Title:** Becoming  
**Characters:** Elladan & Elrohir, Elrond, Celebrían  
**Prompt:** 002. Middles  
**Rating:** G  
**Summary: **A change in plans begets a change in perceptions.

_Narië_ T.A. 178  
"Summer in Eryn Galen?"

"But what of Lothlórien?"

Elrond smiled at his sons' incredulity. Well, the invitation from Thranduil had come as a surprise to him as well. After all, relations between the Silvan Elves of Greenwood the Great and the other elven realms had suffered to a certain extent in the wake of the War of the Last Alliance. Thranduil had not cut off all ties with his erstwhile confederates but neither had he fostered anything more than cautious amity with them. And this latter gesture was more for the sake of his people's security than any desire for greater friendship with his counterparts. The Imladrin lord glanced down at the letter on his desk written in the woodland king's own hand.

"I was as surprised when I read this," he told them. "But your grandparents themselves would urge me to accept. Thranduil's reasons are sound even if they were obviously put forth to him by someone else."

Elrohir leaned forward in his seat. "Legolas?" he ventured.

Elrond nodded. "I believe he appealed to his father's pride in their people. Else why would Thranduil trouble to extend this invitation that I might '_personally see how our people have fared since the decimation of their ranks during the last war and our removal to the north of Eryn Galen_'? It would be a point of honor with Thranduil to prove that his folk are far doughtier than too many of us tend to believe."

He suppressed a grin when Elrohir snorted and said: "Only fools and lackwits would think the Wood-elves anything less than brave and strong and – and capable. Why, one need only spend time with their prince and know any belief otherwise is an ill-founded fallacy!"

Elladan chuckled softly. "'Tis a pity King Thranduil is not around to hear so spirited a championing of his son and subjects," he teased. "I wager it would go a long way in mending fences between his people and ours."

"Indeed," Elrond agreed. "All the more reason to accept his invitation and prove we bear the Silvan folk no ill regard but highly esteem them."

"Which is what Legolas intended I presume," Celebrían said as she entered the study. She received her sons' greetings then looked at her husband inquiringly. "Erestor tells me you have instructed him to prepare for departure within a fortnight. Is there need for such haste, husband?"

Elrond reached out a hand and, when his wife slipped hers into his, drew her to him and onto his lap. The twins exchanged glances then furtively snickered in the manner of youths the world over when presented with the picture of their parents so romantically posed. Elrond paid them no mind but held his lady even closer.

"The earlier we set foot in their kingdom, the lengthier will be our stay and the more opportunities there will be to strengthen our ties with them," Elrond reasoned. "Therefore, aye, there is some need for haste."

Celebrían pressed a fond kiss to his temple. "And I suppose your anticipation of Elrohir's delight had naught to do with it," she murmured.

Elladan chortled while his brother turned a nice shade of red. Meanwhile, Elrond clucked his tongue at his wife but shortly broke into a wide smile.

A week into the ensuing preparations for the visit to the forest realm, Elladan walked into Elrohir's room to find his twin glaring at the mountain of apparel and sundry other clothing items on his bed. Elladan came to his side and stared at the bounteous mess.

"Are you planning to take up permanent residence in Eryn Galen?" he mildly inquired upon ascertaining that his brother was attempting to pack for their approaching journey. "Surely you do not need everything in your wardrobe for a summer's visit."

Elrohir scowled and tossed the tunic he was holding aside. "I am only trying to select what will suit me best," he readily admitted. "It has been eleven years since Legolas came here, Elladan. I cannot help but wonder whether he will remember the young Elf—"

"The charming young Elf," Elladan cheekily interjected.

"—of his earlier acquaintance." Elrohir glowered at him ere continuing. "Or will he think me a gangling creature not worth his time and attention."

Elladan nigh choked on the idea. "Gangling?" he repeated disbelievingly. "Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds? No Elf in Arda could ever describe us thusly, Elrohir! We are too solid of frame which is only to be expected given our heritage."

To his surprise, Elrohir only looked more alarmed. "Do you think so?" he anxiously said. "Then would he not be put off by this less than lithe form?"

The older twin did not quite know whether to laugh or groan. "Elrohir! Just because we have more meat to us does not mean we lack in lissomness!" he exclaimed. He grabbed his brother and pushed him in front of the mirror. "Do you think we could compare to our mannish kin? Why, they mistake us for Elf-maids far too often as it is! And Glorfindel is forever telling us to gain more weight if we hope to hold our own against his warriors." He shook his head. "If you need evidence of true brawn, you need look no further than our captain and his fellows."

Elrohir studied his reflection. He looked at Elladan who stared back at him in mingled amusement and exasperation.

"Elbereth preserve me, I am lost!" he moaned.

Elladan threw his arm around him consolingly. "You will find your way back," he assured him. "Do you not recall my own folly six winters ago?"

Elrohir had to smile albeit feebly. "In an attempt to look older, you plaited your hair elaborately for the solstice celebration," he murmured reminiscently.

"Because I wanted to hurry him into seeing me in a different light," Elladan said. "Thank Eru Mother met us in the corridor ere we entered the Hall of Fire and counselled me not to hasten matters along. Can you imagine my humiliation had I proceeded thusly coiffed?"

"Well, I did warn you," Elrohir pointed out, his smile widening.

"That you did but I was too besotted to listen to one of my own years." Elladan continued earnestly. "I pray you will not make the same mistake. Heed me, brother, though I know little more than you."

Elrohir sobered. "I am listening."

"Then do not embark as I did on some outlandish endeavor to make yourself more desirable to him," Elladan counselled. "You already are, Elrohir. Else he would have turned down your request when you made it for he is not one to give false hopes."

A moment's silence followed that statement. Elrohir turned to the mirror to consider his appearance once more. After a while, he reached behind his head and, gathering his raven hair, began to plait it. Understanding his intent, Elladan stepped behind him to help, securing the resulting single braid with a thin black riband. Elrohir did the same for him.

The brethren regarded themselves and each other appraisingly. And smiled.

oOoOoOo

Not a few were taken aback that night when the twins joined their parents in the dining hall for the evening meal. Many an Elf stopped in their tracks when the two entered the chamber, looking not quite the same yet not altogether different either. Even Elrond and Celebrían stared at their sons for a spell in wide-eyed silence, suddenly and acutely aware that these beauteous beings they had begotten were braving the road to full maturity and all the rewards and challenges that came with it.

"It is most fetching," Celebrían finally said with an approving smile. "And I dare say suitable as well," she dryly added, recalling all the times she had needed to battle the effects of hard play on her sons' thick manes.

The twins beamed happily at her but a moment later became conscious of their sire's too long silence. They glanced at each other then focused their gazes on him.

"Are you displeased, _Ada_?"—Papa—they chorused.

Elrond heard the uncertainty in their voices. They knew him. Knew what memory stayed his tongue.

Once upon a time, so very long ago, he had stepped back from helping another attire himself for the journey to his new country, his new kingship and his new life. Just so had Elros done his hair then, in the manner of the people he and his heirs would rule from thereon. In that moment, Elrond had truly felt the chasm that yawned between them. In that moment, he had felt utterly alone and lonely.

A hand gently clasped his and he met his wife's gaze. The feeling of loneliness receded. He turned to his sons once more and was struck by how much he could now see of his brother in both of them. The remembrance of being alone faded as well.

"On the contrary, I am most pleased," he warmly assured them. Casting a quick glance about and noting one surreptitiously rapt regard in particular, he suddenly grinned, the twinkle returning to his eyes. "But likely not more pleased than those for whom this becoming change is intended."

Glossary:  
Narië – Quenya for the sixth month of the year, the period between 23 May and 21 June  
Eryn Galen – Greenwood the Great

_To be continued..._


	10. Appraisals

**Title:** Appraisals  
**Characters:** Legolas, Thranduil, Elrohir and Elladan  
**Prompt:** 040. Sight  
**Rating:** PG  
**Summary:** The twins accompany their parents on their first trip to the Woodland Realm in the north of Eryn Galen.

Eryn Galen, _Cerveth_ T.A. 178  
"They come."

Thranduil glanced at his son. Legolas's eyes remained firmly on the approaching party of Elves though the latter was still nigh some five leagues away. The Elvenking willed the tension out of his body. This summer's visit by Elrond and his family would reveal the extent of Legolas's fascination with them. Or rather what had engaged that fascination in the first place.

Oh, the prince was no callow youth to betray himself so easily. Only one who knew him very well would have taken note of his greater than usual interest in the Peredhil following his sojourn in Imladris. He did not talk incessantly about them or champion their honor more ardently than his wont when someone spoke of them in less than respectful terms. But when he did mention them, the king noted a softening in his mien that bespoke far more than casual interest. And while he was not overly outspoken in their defense, his eyes would glitter with displeasure enough to persuade even the most obstreperous of Elves to temper their pronouncements.

It was not as if Legolas had never been so chivalrous before or employed such methods to defuse potentially explosive situations. He once stood as his grandsire's regent for seven years after all and during a time fraught with peril and uncertainty. Nay, it was not his conduct that told the king there was more to his affinity for the Peredhil than mere diplomacy. Rather it was the degree of it.

They waited at the western outskirts of the vast forest that was called Greenwood the Great in the Common Tongue. Their realm lay some sixty leagues inward northeast of the mountains, on the very fringes of the woods nigh to The Long Lake that was fed by the Forest River that ran through the heart of the Silvan Elves' kingdom. Not by the Old Forest Road did journeyers reach the Woodland Realm but by a little-known elven path that bypassed the mountains as it wound northward, broken only by the Enchanted River, which the Wood-elves crossed by ferry.

The riders rapidly covered the remaining distance to the forest edge, their elven steeds swifter than their lesser kindred in Middle-earth save perhaps for the wild horses of the North that were said to have been brought from the West by Oromë, the Huntsman of the Valar. Before long, they were close enough for Thranduil to see their features shadowed though they were by the hoods of their cloaks.

He recognized Elrond easily. There was no mistaking Gil-galad's former herald. Thranduil had fought alongside him on occasion during the War of the Last Alliance. Glorfindel, too, could not be missed. Taller than most Elves in these Hinter Lands, he was an imposing figure whose face and form one did not forget particularly after having witnessed him brutally cleave his way through a throng of foes. Erestor, however, the Elvenking knew only by reputation. But he guessed the slightly built Elf who rode behind Elrond to the right of Glorfindel was the much lauded chief counsellor.

Now the last and only time he had seen Celebrían was when she and her parents briefly sojourned with him and his father Oropher. This was in the last age when Celeborn and Galadriel still lived in Eregion. Who would have thought that the daughter of his kinsman would one day wed Elrond Half-elven? Or that she would present her lord with an elven rarity. Twin sons.

They rode at Elrond's side. Tall for their age and showing traces of their father's broader frame, they were passing fair, Thranduil had to admit. Fairer by far than any Elf he knew save perhaps his own son. He began to say something to Legolas but noticed how the latter was avidly staring at the approaching Elves. He followed the direction of that unrelenting gaze and realized it fell upon the brethren. The king wondered.

"Can you tell Elrond's sons apart?" he idly inquired.

Legolas nodded, not taking his eyes off the twins. "The one right by Lord Elrond is the older, Elladan. The other is Elrohir."

"How can you be certain when they look so alike and at this distance?"

The archer shrugged. "I cannot say, Father. I just – know."

Thranduil pursed his lips. "You said you befriended one of them. I suppose 'twas Elladan."

"On the contrary, it was Elrohir."

The king frowned. _Odd_. The brethren were still very young. If any could claim to have enough in common with Legolas to surmount the great difference in age and experience between them, Thranduil would have expected it to be the son being groomed to govern Imladris after Elrond.

"His company must have been quite pleasant for you to have spent much time with such a youngling," he ventured.

Legolas glanced at him. "I enjoyed his company very much," he readily owned. "He is forthright, intelligent and noble-hearted." There was a brief pause ere the archer softly added, "And he will be beauteous beyond compare when he is fully grown. They both will."

Thranduil looked sharply at him. "Elrond will not be pleased to know you have designs on his son's virtue," he said.

A grin tugged at the corners of Legolas's mouth. "Surely he would not fault me were his son to freely offer it and I accepted."

The king's frown deepened. "And did he offer it?" Legolas did not reply but only permitted himself a smile. Thranduil sighed. "Ah, well, that would certainly be a trophy worth crowing about," he remarked.

Legolas's smile faded and he looked once more at his sire. "Not a trophy, _aran nîn_, but a priceless treasure." His eyes gleamed darkly. "And one I do not intend to share if I can help it." Before Thranduil could respond, Legolas gestured toward the Imladrin party and said, "Should we not ride to meet them?"

Thranduil dealt him a severe look before urging his mount forward. His lips curled in a faint smirk, Legolas followed.

He waited patiently as his father exchanged greetings with Elrond and renewed his acquaintance with Celebrían and Glorfindel. Then Erestor was duly introduced as were Elrond's sons.

They lowered their hoods in concert when Elrond presented them to the Elvenking, bowing their heads respectfully as they were named. Legolas's eyes widened slightly upon first sight of the twins' single braids.

To say the fashion suited them was an egregious understatement. With their dark hair drawn back thusly, the sheer symmetry of their faces and nigh perfection of their features were pointed up with startling clarity. It seemed Eru had seen fit to bestow more than their fair share of beauty on these scions of blessed Eärendil even at this early date when they were still poised on the brink of maturity.

In turn, Elrohir was watching his every move while striving not to be too obvious about it. But Legolas schooled himself to speak with Elrond and Celebrían with all due propriety and to warmly greet Elladan. When at last he turned his attention to Elrohir, the youth's countenance brightened considerably.

"You have grown, _pen neth_"—young one—Legolas remarked. "I can scarcely believe my eyes. You are almost as tall as I."

Elrohir could not be as composed. He nervously glanced at Elladan who had tactfully moved away then looked at Legolas again, seeming at a loss for words now that he was in the archer's presence.

At length, he managed a smile and said, "'Tis so good to see you again, Legolas, and sooner than I ever hoped for."

From the corner of his eye, Thranduil saw his son's entire demeanor gentle. He heard Legolas say, "Aye, your letters cheered me, but they were no more than a poor substitute for your presence. I am pleased beyond words that you have come, Elrohir _nîn_."

Elrohir was not the only one to react to that possessive address. Thranduil did not blush as the Elf-knight did, but looked at his son in tacit reproach. Legolas nodded his acknowledgement but did not leaven his decidedly affectionate manner with the younger twin.

Thranduil knew then without a shadow of a doubt that the question he sought to answer about his son's conduct was not _What?_ but rather _Who?_

Glossary:  
Cerveth – Sindarin for the seventh month of the year, the period between 23 June and 22 July  
aran nín – my king  
Elrohir nín – my Elrohir

_To be continued..._


	11. Reacquaintance

**Title:** Reacquaintance  
**Characters: **Elrohir and Elladan, Legolas  
**Prompt: **025. Strangers  
**Rating:** PG  
**Summary:** Elrohir and Legolas renew their acquaintance after eleven years.

The brethren did their best to ignore the glances cast their way. None too friendly glances, or so they deemed, judging from the way the Wood-elves constantly regarded them askance.

"Have we grown horns and snouts that they look at us as if we belong in a menagerie?" Elrohir indignantly demanded.

Elladan shook his head and clapped a soothing hand on his twin's shoulder. In an effort to curtail the annoying scrutiny to which they had been subjected since they set foot in the Woodland Realm three days past, the twins had taken to using the less traversed hallways. But there was no place that was absolutely devoid of Elves in the delved palace their royal hosts called home. And so, as they continued on their way to the dining hall, they could only stoically pretend not to notice the furtive regard of the passers-by they encountered.

"We are strangers here," Elladan reminded him. "I wager they have not had much to do with outsiders since the War of the Last Alliance. And even then, only those who marched to Mordor would have come into contact with the other tribes. I dare say we simply look a little different to them."

Elrohir snorted. "Understating the obvious, brother? We _are_ different, Elladan, or have you not noticed that their scrutiny is limited to Father and us?"

"I noticed," Elladan conceded. His twin was right, of course. There was no mistaking the differences between them and the Silvan folk. These Wood-elves possessed a wild beauty and nigh ethereal lissomness that the tall and stately Eldar did not. The Peredhil's earthier features and more compact frames set them even further apart. Consequently, the woodland folk observed them on the sly but did not approach them more closely than what common courtesy required.

Elrohir stopped short of the door through which they would exit the corridor. Beyond was the main passage to the public chambers of the palace. There would be no evading the ill-concealed curiosity that would be directed at them. But for the moment, the Elf-knight was in no mood to be inspected as if he were some kickshaw with nothing more to him than his decidedly exotic appearance.

"What think you do they see when they look at us?" he scowled. "Brutish _adanedhil_ most likely with none of their elven grace and all of the ungainliness of mannish striplings!"

"I am sorry that you have been made to feel so unlovely, _pin nith_."—young ones.

Elrohir would have jumped had a similarly startled Elladan not been gripping his shoulder. The twins sheepishly turned around to face Legolas. Elrohir in particular thought he would sooner have gladly cut off his tongue than be caught making such bilious utterances and by Legolas of all people.

"I did not mean… that is…" Floundering, Elrohir turned pleading eyes to his twin.

But Elladan had seen what his smitten brother could not. He faintly smiled and said, "Elrohir did not intend to demean your folk."

"I know he did not," Legolas replied. He looked from Elladan to the still abashed Elf-knight. "Your parents wondered why you were taking so long."

"Oh! Let us hurry then, Elrohir."

Elrohir took a step forward but Legolas unexpectedly barred his way.

"A favor, Elladan," Legolas said, ignoring Elrohir's questioning expression. "Would you mind going ahead? I would like a word with your brother."

Elladan lifted his eyebrows in near mimicry of their venerable father. But then he grinned and, nodding in acquiescence, turned on his heel and left them. Elrohir stared after him in surprise.

"You think they deem you wanting in comeliness."

The young Elf jerked about to face the archer, startled by the lack of preamble. He hesitated, then shrugged and said: "What else can I assume when they regard us thusly, then compound it with their aloofness?" When Legolas did not demur, he plunged on. "I swear I have not exchanged anything further than the most cursory of greetings with anyone here save you and your sire. I do not expect much more than civility from the members of your father's court, Legolas, but, Valar, is it too much to ask that the others be a mite more companionable?"

Legolas looked at him thoughtfully. He said, "The Greenwood folk sing your praises without stint, Elf-knight. But this Wood-elf has suffered none to do more than admire you from afar. Thus have you failed to mark their appreciation of your beauty." When Elrohir stared at him in astonishment, the prince added: "Why so surprised? You are without compare in this kingdom. And I am no different from your tutor who zealously guards your brother though he is so circumspect even Elladan does not realize it."

"Then how do you know?" Elrohir stammered.

"Like circumstances, like minds," Legolas pointed out.

Elrohir gaped at him then made to turn around, instinct impelling him to inform his twin immediately of the revelation. But Legolas caught his arm and spun him about. The movement caused him to lightly collide with the archer and land in his embrace, his face nigh pressed against his throat.

"Have a care, _rochen neth_"—my young stallion—Legolas chuckled. "And why the haste? There is time enough to tell Elladan later if you believe it absolutely necessary."

Elrohir swallowed hard, acutely aware of the woodsy scent of his companion. Elbereth, he could get as drunk on it as he had on that treacherous Dorwinion fifteen years back! He tried to stifle a whimper.

Fingers slipped under his chin and lifted it. Elrohir stared into searching eyes of deepest blue, praying he did not drown in them. He would never live it down should he faint from a mere gaze. An instant later, he was too shocked to think anything when soft lips pressed against his forehead.

"Does your request still stand, Elf-knight?" Legolas murmured against the smooth flesh.

Elrohir shuddered at the delicious contact. He could virtually hear the frantic tantivy-tantivy of his heart. He closed his eyes and drew what he hoped would be a calming breath.

"It does," he shakily replied.

He was torn between relief and regret when Legolas drew away from him, releasing him from heady enthrallment. He opened his eyes to see the archer looking at him with an expression he could not identify.

A small smile curved the archer's lips. He placed a hand on Elrohir's shoulder and gestured toward the door.

"Let us proceed ere your sire suspects me of abducting you for some nefarious purpose," he suggested, eyes alight with mirth.

Elrohir nodded, regaining his composure with the return of Legolas's familiar humor. "You would not be far off the mark," he told the archer as they walked. "He recently said he would not set Elladan and me loose amongst mortal women until we reached our majority, for fear of a premature introduction to the ways of their kind." He looked curiously at Legolas. "The ways of their kind… What do you think he meant by that? He refused to tell us though we badgered him about it."

Legolas softly laughed. "No doubt he rued bringing the subject up in the first place," he remarked. "I have heard that a good many amongst the mannish races do not always trouble to await the age of majority ere indulging themselves in the pleasures of the flesh. Unfortunately, most are ignorant of the traditions of other kindreds and would see little harm in seducing their youngsters if they could. You and your brother would be – wildly irresistible to their womenfolk even with your tender years."

Elrohir's eyes had widened with the telling. When Legolas finished, all he could muster was a hushed: "I see." At length, he shook his head and said, "There is so much I do not understand; so little that is clear to me." He gazed at the prince. "You will teach me what I need to know, Legolas?" he asked.

Such sweet trust shone in the young Elf's grey eyes that Legolas counted himself privileged indeed to have won it so utterly.

"I will teach you," Legolas assured him.

_And, Eru willing, much more besides._

Glossary:  
kickshaw – a pretty but insubstantial trinket (_archaic_)  
adanedhil – man-Elves

_To be continued..._


	12. Intent

**Title:** Intent  
**Characters:** Elrohir, Elladan, Elrond, Legolas, Thranduil  
**Prompt:** 082. If  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** Two father-and-son discussions yield converging conclusions even as paternal reactions diverge.

They had not been meant to hear.

A court counsellor had intercepted Legolas as he made his way along a side corridor toward his father's study. He had taken the archer aside, speaking to him in the relative concealment of one of the reading alcoves that lined the hallways.

Unfortunately, the very objects of the advisor's concern had chosen that moment to take a shortcut to their quarters by way of the same corridor. Elladan and Elrohir could not help overhearing the less than amicable exchange that ensued. By the time the brethren's presence was marked, they had gleaned the gist of the argument. Or rather confirmed their suspicions.

Legolas sighed and, with a baleful glare at the other Elf, turned his back on him and walked to the twins. The counsellor prudently held his tongue, schooled his expression and hurried off in the opposite direction.

"His opinion is his alone," Legolas stated even ere the advisor was out of earshot. "You are greatly admired by my people and they do not deem it unseemly of me to keep company with you."

The twins glanced at each other. Elrohir said, "Mayhap that is true of the common folk. But not of some members of your father's court, Legolas. 'Tis they who remain wary of us."

Legolas frowned. "Has any dared treat you discourteously?" he demanded. "Tell me, for I will not permit any to demean you."

Elrohir shook his head while Elladan spoke up. "None has demeaned us to our faces. But as to what they say behind our backs…" He shrugged. "We know there are not a few who do not welcome our presence here. Or should I say, Elrohir's presence."

Legolas gravely looked from one twin to the other. "I will not belittle your perceptiveness," he said. "There is indeed some opposition to my proclivity for Elrohir's company. But as ambition rather than altruism is the greater reason for their objections, I care little for their complaints."

"But Legolas—"

The archer gently pressed two fingers to Elrohir's lips to still his protest. "I will take care of this annoyance as I see fit," he murmured. "Think no more of it, Elf-knight."

Smiling reassuringly, he brushed his thumb against Elrohir's lower lip ere he pulled his hand away. Sparing a warm smile for Elladan, he took his leave of the twins and strode off.

Elladan looked at his brother. "What do you think?"

Elrohir kept his eyes on the archer until he disappeared from sight. "'Tis most pleasing that he esteems me enough to defend our friendship," he said. "But I would rather he did not embroil himself in this on my account. I do not care to bring trouble upon him or the king."

"It does not seem to concern him very much," Elladan commented.

"I dare say it does, but he will not show it to anyone," Elrohir replied. "Least of all us."

Troubled, Elrohir told Elladan he wished to speak with their parents and went on to their chamber where he found Elrond alone within. Unsure as to how to broach the matter, he gingerly posed probing questions until his sire finally held up a hand to halt the flow of inquiries and said: "What is it that bothers you so that you cannot come straight to the point, Elrohir?"

He motioned to his younger son to sit beside him on the divan by the wide four-poster bed. Caught between embarrassment and relief, Elrohir obeyed. Settling himself, he recounted all that he and Elladan had noticed and heard, ending with the disagreement between Legolas and the Silvan counsellor.

Elrond frowned, more displeased with the veiled affronts to his son than any political discord resulting from his friendship with Legolas. The latter came with the territory after all and was only to be expected, but Elrond would suffer no excuse for impoliteness. He thoughtfully eyed Elrohir. The youth did not shy from his perusal, his usual equanimity restored for the moment with the confession of his troubles.

"I have wondered how deep your affection for him runs," Elrond remarked at last. "Would you care to confide the extent of it?"

Elrohir hesitated for a second or so. "I have asked him to be my first lover," he admitted, forcing himself to meet his father's gaze. When Elrond nodded encouragingly, he took heart. "And I would not mind if he were to eventually become the only one," he softly finished.

After considering the information, Elrond said: "Your mother and I have long suspected that you harbored more than feelings of friendship for him. But you were still so young and, though we knew it saddened you, we were relieved that you would be long separated from him if only to ascertain whether your feelings were lasting and if his intentions were true. Judging from the way he welcomed you and how he has doted on you since, despite the rumblings amongst his father's nobles, it is quite clear that Legolas sincerely cares for you."

Elrohir brightened momentarily at his father's words. "I am glad you think so, _Ada_.But that does not change the fact that our friendship, and whatever else may come of it, will likely cause him no small amount of grief. I do not wish that upon him. I would rather withdraw my request than have it become cause for dissent."

"Would that 'twas you who pursued him in full sight of all," Elrond pointed out. "But 'tis Legolas who chose not to hide your friendship or the possibility of it becoming something more. Do you understand why there is opposition in the first place?"

The younger twin nodded. "The Silvan nobles fear they will lose what influence they have at court should Legolas not take one of their own to mate."

"An influence that can only grow were he to sire half-Silvan heirs as well," Elrond added. "This need would not be so dire were it not for the greater power the few Sindar of this kingdom wield, thanks to their tribal kinship with the House of Oropher. I have oft wondered if either Oropher or Thranduil ever dangled the prospect of marriage with their sole unwed heir as a means of appeasement."

"Legolas told me his father encouraged him to dally with maids for the most part," Elrohir said. "And that there is an expectation of another generation after him."

"Then they did use it," Elrond murmured. "Yet Legolas has displayed no qualms about keeping close company with you. Interesting."

"What do you make of his actions then?" Elrohir anxiously queried.

"He likely believes he can handle those who object to any liaison with you," Elrond deduced. "Given his experience in this kingdom's political affairs, he is probably right. Do not forget that he once stood as regent to his grandsire. In any case, this could establish the extent of his interest in you. If he does not permit the naysayers to deter him; if he seeks you out in spite of all their objections, that would mean that his feelings for you go further than simple affection and desire. Would you not prefer that than to have your relations peter out once he has shorn you of your innocence?"

Elrohir colored slightly. "About that... you do not mind, _Ada_?"

Elrond chuckled. "He is kind and noble and comely besides. Why should I object? And if you win yourself a woodland mate, your mother and I will deem it cause for much rejoicing."

He opened his arms to his son. Elrohir gladly went into his embrace.

oOoOoOo

Thranduil watched Legolas pour himself wine ere sitting down in one of the two armchairs before the hearth in the royal study. Choosing to forego a prolonged preamble, the Elvenking seated himself in the other and sternly said: "You have not acted as you told me you would. You assured me you would let it be believed that you have designs on Elrohir's innocence, to explain your unwonted interest in him."

The king had approved of the tactic whatever else he thought of Legolas's closeness to the younger twin. It was something the Wood-elven nobles of his court would understand and even encourage, taking collective pride in the thought of their prince plucking the virginity of one as beauteous and high-born as Elrond's son.

Legolas set his goblet down on the small table between the chairs. He looked at his father and said, "I will wait until after the Peredhil's visit. I do not want Elrohir to be present when I allow word of my 'intentions' to get around. Even if he is apprised of the truth beforehand, he will be wounded should he get wind of talk about my making a trophy of his virtue."

"You care overmuch for him," Thranduil commented rather astringently.

"And if I do?"

"You are expected to wed and provide heirs, Legolas."

"I know what is expected of me, _hîren_. Rest assured I will not dash those expectations and leave you to deal with the resulting mess."

"Oh? Then what of your intentions toward the young Peredhel? 'Tis quite obvious that his heart is given and to whom. What will become of him when you break it and take a wife?"

"I will neither break his heart nor take a wife."

"But you said—"

"That I would not dash their expectations. I simply will not bind myself to anyone until such time that the need for heirs is no longer imperative. Let them pin their hopes on my continued unmarried state if they wish. But whose company I keep in the meantime will be my concern alone."

Thranduil regarded him with equal parts wonder and exasperation.

"And think you he will wait for such a time? They are both very comely. Many will seek their hands in wedlock and soonest."

"He will wait. As _Naneth_ waited for you."

Thranduil grimaced. "Verily, you are indeed my son," he wryly commented. He then muttered, "I should have buggered Elrond when I had the chance. Mayhap he would then have foregone the company of females and not sired a son to beguile mine."

Legolas stared at him. "Lord Elrond... _and you_?"

Thranduil glared back at him. "During the last war, we kept company more often than in all our time in Lindon when your grandsire and I still lived south of the Lhûn," he reluctantly explained. "There was one night, after a particularly brutal battle, that we commiserated with each other and proceeded to drown our grief in drink. It was then, when he was quite inebriated, that he confessed that he had never lain with another _ellon_, asked me if I had and what was it like and that, since we were likely going to get killed any day, would I care to show him."

Legolas stifled a guffaw at the image conjured by his father. "So he offered you the chance? Why did you decline?"

"Aside from the fact that I was very much married?" Thranduil retorted, looking quite severely at him.

Legolas snorted. "Widowed," he corrected. "And in the middle of a war which you thought you would not survive. Not to mention that you were both grieving and lonely and drunk enough not to have been in full possession of all your wits. Else I cannot imagine Elrond propositioning you at all. So, why did you decline?"

Thranduil sighed. "Because I did have a modicum of wit left and, wildly attractive as he and his overture were, I could not forget that he was in love with Celeborn's daughter."

Legolas smirked. "Why, Father, I did not know you could be such a romantic."

Thranduil bristled. "I simply did what was honorable," he huffed. "Which I now heartily regret. For if Elrond is anything like his son, had I showed him then the delights of male companionship, he might have developed a propensity for it and thus foregone marriage with Celebrían, and there would not now be yet another Peredhel to offer his virginal backside to a scion of our House!"

Such convoluted reasoning could only be met with the response Legolas made. But though he knew it, the Elvenking could not stop himself from scowling when his son slowly dissolved into shoulder-shaking laughter.

Glossary:  
Ada – Papa  
Peredhil (sing. Peredhel) – Half-elves/Half-elven  
hîren – my lord  
Naneth – Mother  
bugger – to sodomize  
ellon – male Elf

_To be continued..._


	13. Revelations

**Title:** Revelations  
**Characters:** Elladan and Elrohir, Celebrían, Glorfindel  
**Prompt:** 050. Spade  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** Depending on its recipient, plainspoken counsel can be either heartening or daunting.

Imladris, _tuilë_ T.A. 179  
Elrohir sighed. Would he ever learn to tame his wayward feelings? Since the visit to the Woodland Realm in Eryn Galen the previous year, he had found himself even more beset by unpredictable changes of mood and the most embarrassing of bodily yearnings.

Too often of late had he awakened from overly libidinal dreams and visions of a fair-haired archer who invariably teased him with his wicked smile ere inveigling him into certain acts guaranteed to ensure the nocturnal emissions that left him hot-cheeked, shallow of breath and in dire need of a change of sleeping trousers unless he wished to pass the remainder of the night in damp discomfort. There were far more such nights than ones spent in peaceful slumber and Elrohir wondered whether he had stepped beyond the bounds of what was deemed normal.

He hesitated when, upon peeking into the study, it was Celebrían he saw seated behind Elrond's stately desk. She was presently occupied in writing, occasionally consulting a thick stack of parchment at her elbow. Elrohir pursed his lips then turned to go.

"As your father is not here, will you not confide your troubles in me?"

Elrohir halted and sheepishly looked at his mother. Celebrían had set aside her work and now leaned back in her husband's high-backed chair. She raised her eyebrows at him in an expression that was both inviting and chiding.

The young Elf entered the study and sank into one of the two chairs that fronted the desk. "I did not mean to offend you, _Nana_"—Mama—he said.

"I am sure you did not," Celebrían said with a smile. "But it appears to me that you do not think me capable of helping with whatever ails you. Else why did you think to retreat when you saw 'twas I and not your father seated here?"

Elrohir shook his head. "'Tis not your wisdom I questioned, _Nana_. But I thought that you might not understand my worries being – well, being female."

His mother's eyes gleamed with understanding. "May I assume then that you have been experiencing a surfeit of bodily needs?"

The Elf-knight gaped at her. "How – how did you know?" he blurted out.

Celebrían softly laughed. "Such feelings are not the province of _ellyn_ alone, dear one," she said. "Not to mention that, this past year, you have had an inordinate quantity of nightwear laundered almost ever week."

The rosy splotches on Elrohir's cheeks bloomed into a scarlet swath that spread to his ears and down to his throat. He ducked his head, wondering if he could will the floor to open up that he might descend into the depths below and blessed concealment. He felt a hand take his and soothingly rub it. Looking up, he found that Celebrían had moved to sit in the chair before him.

"Do not be feel shamed by this," she said. "'Tis but a natural part of growing up, especially if one is engrossed in a specific object of desire. Though in your case, I dare say 'tis more than desire that stirs you. Methinks Legolas has well and truly ensnared your heart."

"He has!" Elrohir earnestly agreed. His need to confide in someone overcoming his diffidence, he rushed on. "Ah, _Nana_, it comes to me almost nightly, this – this wanting. What can I do to stop it?"

"Stop it? You might as well ask a troll to take up embroidery to pass the time between meals!" Celebrían stroked his reddened cheeks with her other hand. "You cannot stop feeling thusly nor can you direct your dreams. And why should you fear it when 'tis merely a mark of your continued growth as well as evidence of your deep regard for him?"

Elrohir bit his lip then gazed at his mother beseechingly. "Did Father or you…?" he asked.

Celebrían dimpled. "I cannot speak for him but for myself, yea, there is much to tell. And much to blush about were I still a maid."

"Why, what did you do?"

"From the moment I laid my eyes on your father, I fell head over heels in infatuation with him. I was still a few years short of my majority, but not too young to know a handsome Elf when I saw one. And such a splendid specimen of malehood your father was and still is. Ask your grandparents the next time we visit them just how close to madness I drove them with my incessant chatter about Elrond Ëarendilion," she merrily said. "I warrant they will give you more than an earful! Ah, I can recall how even the mere mention of his name would reduce me to blushing and nigh endless giggling."

Elrohir gawked at her in amazement. It was difficult to reconcile the image she painted of a gracelessly besotted maiden with the dignified mistress of Imladris that she was now. "You, _Nana_? You behaved thusly?"

Celebrían nodded emphatically. "That I did. It was all I could do not to stutter some inanity in his presence. Or avoid swooning from the mere scent of him."

She chuckled at her son's expression. He did not mind directness from others. Indeed he much preferred it when people did not call a spade by some other oft absurd name. But such bluntness coming from his mother was most unexpected.

Celebrían sat back, fondly regarding her younger son. "So you see, 'tis not something to be ashamed of, save if one has no sense of humor about the whole business of growing up," she said. "And, verily, you are more fortunate than most youths who know their hearts early on. Certainly, you are luckier than I was."

"What do you mean?"

"You already know that Legolas returns your interest. That is more than I had from your father for he only revealed his desire for me when I finally came of age. And even then, it was years before he formally sought my hand, busy as he was tending to his duties as Gil-galad's herald and, later, founding and building Imladris."

Listening to Celebrían's recounting of her first brush with infatuation, Elrohir realized he had been unduly anxious. And he was indeed fortunate that the Elf he idolized did not spurn his clumsy overtures and even openly acknowledged a like regard for him. He rose to his feet, gratefully gazing at his mother.

"Thank you, _Nana_," he murmured, bending down and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

oOoOoOo

While the Elf-knight chose to pass their morning's hour of leisure seeking elucidation, his twin elected to watch Glorfindel put his greenhorn warriors through their paces. Elladan sat on one of the wooden benches scattered around the drill yard, eyes intent on the Elves who struggled to meet their captain's admittedly high standards. Elrohir would one day take on the bulk of military command between the two of them and it behooved Elladan to see for himself what manner of warriors his brother would not only lead, but also rely on for his safety.

After a while, he walked to Glorfindel who currently stood at the far end of the drill yard talking with a very young warrior. He intended to inform him of the rather erratic performances of certain of the neophytes. But as he approached him, he overheard the captain caution his companion not to commit himself to eternal union so soon.

Elladan raised his eyebrows in surprise. Curiosity getting the better of his customary prudence, he waited for the Elf to return to the training ground then intercepted Glorfindel before the captain followed him.

"How can I be of service, _hîr neth_?"—young lord—the golden-haired warrior asked with a small smile.

Elladan shook his head at the formal address. "Must you always greet me thusly, Glorfindel?" he remarked.

"If it will help accustom you to the deference you will one day be constantly accorded, yea, I must."

The older twin sighed. "I am not looking forward to that day," he admitted. "Formality and the upholding of it can be quite tiring at times."

The captain looked at him sympathetically. "Thus must you dispense with it when you are with your dearest and most trusted ones, that you may alleviate the weight of rulership. But I do not think you approached me to discuss the duties and obligations of a leader, Elladan."

Elladan nodded. "'Twas what you said to Dirael," he said. "You told him to desist from binding so soon, yet he is old enough to take a mate if he so wishes. Are you against early wedlock, Glorfindel? For if you are, I will own myself surprised since our kindred has long displayed a propensity for it."

Glorfindel's smile widened. He said: "I have nothing against early wedlock itself; only that those lacking in maturity should undertake it. It is imperative that an Elf be very certain of his choice of mate. After all, we wed for eternity and it would be a tragedy to discover that two are not suited to each other only after the vows have already been spoken. But such discernment entails a certain degree of maturity and not all Elves possess it as soon as they reach their majority. In any case, I do not believe marriage is the be-all and end-all of our lives. There is much that can content or fulfill us even should we delay wedlock or never wed at all."

"Like you?" Elladan asked.

"I will not marry unless I know for certes that I have found the eternal owner of my heart," Glorfindel replied. "And I am not the only one to choose thusly. Your own sire deferred marriage until he was absolutely certain that he would forever love your mother. The same can be said of your grandparents for neither Celeborn nor Galadriel were young any longer when they bound to each other. Then there are my old comrades of Gondolin, Ecthelion and Duilin, and the venerable shipwright Círdan, and our very own Erestor; bachelors all and by choice."

A thoughtful gleam lit his eyes and Elladan, about to speak, held his tongue.

"Erestor will likely never wed," Glorfindel musingly commented. "He is so selective about everything; overly so I oft tell him. Even his companions he measures against his exacting standards and, thus, they are few and far in between. What more the mate to whom he would be bound forever?" The warrior shook his head. "He takes lovers, but I fear that is the farthest he will go."

Encouraged by Glorfindel's candidness, Elladan opened his mouth to query further. But just then, Glorfindel was anxiously hailed by his warriors. One of them had been hurt while sparring and now knelt on the grassy ground, gritting his teeth against the pain of a dislocated shoulder.

His healer's instincts taking over, Elladan set aside his inquisitiveness and hurried after Glorfindel to give what aid he could ere the injured Elf was conveyed to the healing halls by his fellows. Only after Glorfindel was gone did he recall that his last question had gone unvoiced. And it would likely go unanswered as well for, now that he realized how impertinent his inquiries must have seemed to Glorfindel, Elladan doubted he could be so bold as to broach the subject again to the captain.

He headed back to the house, meeting Elrohir ere he made the garden path.

"I wondered where you had taken yourself," Elrohir said, falling into step with him. He gestured toward the drill yard. "You observed them?"

"Aye, and you? What were you about?"

"I had a most fascinating conversation with Mother. About my dreams."

Elladan looked at his brother sharply. "Your dreams?" he repeated.

Elrohir nodded. "It was very enlightening. I never realized just how alike to us our parents were once upon a time. But never mind that for now. You looked rather disturbed about something. Would you care to share it with me?"

Elladan did not speak at once. When he did, he sounded quite downhearted.

"I talked with Glorfindel and learned something I had never expected. It troubled me," he admitted.

He proceeded to recount his discussion with the captain. When he finished, he said: "I do not know whether it is something I can surmount. What if I cannot?"

Elrohir shook his head. "You do not know if you will have to surmount anything. If his regard for you runs deep – and there has been evidence that it does; 'tis only because you are Father's heir and not yet of age that he stays his hand – why, I imagine he will cast aside any habit that distresses you rather than force you to contend with it."

The older twin glanced sideways at him half hopefully, half skeptically. "Do you truly think so?"

"Would I say so if I did not?" Elrohir pointed out. He threw an arm around Elladan's shoulders. "A fine pair we are, fretting over the whys and what ifs long ere they have begun to affect us enough to warrant seriously worrying about them!"

Elladan smiled ruefully. "Aye, you are right," he said. He looked up and espied Erestor awaiting them on the porch. "Ah, we had best hurry. Erestor has no liking for tardiness."

He quickened his steps and Elrohir followed suit. As they neared the counsellor, Elladan glanced back at his brother and said: "You must tell me what you and _Nana_ talked about. It sounds rather interesting."

Elrohir slyly smiled. "Does your interest have aught to do with your recent practice of washing your nightwear yourself?" he murmured.

Elladan stopped in his tracks and stared at him. "How—?" He closed his mouth abruptly, aware that he had confirmed his brother's contention.

"I could hardly miss them," Elrohir told him. "You always leave them to dry on your balcony railing!"

Laughing, he sprinted the rest of the way, a sputtering, red-faced Elladan hot on his heels.

Glossary:  
tuilë – Quenya for spring, approximately April to May  
ellyn – male Elves

_To be continued..._


	14. Hearsay

**Title:** Hearsay  
**Characters:** Elrohir, OC, Legolas (mentioned)  
**Prompt:** 099. Arrow  
**Rating:** PG  
**Summary:** When he encounters rough water, Elrohir decides he must learn to steer through it on his own.

Imladris, _lairë_ T.A. 187  
Green and brown. It seemed as if the ancient forest in the east had invaded the Last Homely House, judging from the number of woodland folk walking its hallways. Well, no, that was an exaggeration, Elrohir admitted to himself as he greeted one of said folk while on his way to the Hall of Fire.

In truth, there were only a dozen and a half Greenwood Elves in residence in the valley and a third of them were billeted in the barracks. The remaining two thirds consisted of scribes, healers and a handful of Thranduil's advisors who had been sent to Imladris for a season of cultural and intellectual exchange. Elrohir's feeling that his home had been overrun with Wood-elves had more to do with the absence of the one Wood-elf who would have made the Silvan delegation's advent most welcome to him. But as he had not come, then every Elf who had was one unwanted Elf too many. An irrational feeling, Elrohir knew, but he simply could not help himself and, thus, did not waste his energy trying to.

Two years to go and he would finally know whether his wish would be granted. Two years and he would either learn that most vital of lessons or delay the learning while he sought another Elf he could trust enough to teach him. For all his broad hints of reciprocation of interest, Legolas had yet to declare once and for all that he would gift his acquiescence on Elrohir come his majority. He could still make a turnaround and rightfully say that he had never made up his mind about Elrohir's request in the first place.

This fear had not only lately come to Elrohir. Since their last meeting in Eryn Galen nine years ago, Legolas had not written him as frequently as he had prior to the Peredhil's visit to the forest realm. And his letters had taken on a peculiarly formal tone. Not cool and secretive, but not very forthcoming either.

The young Elf-knight slowed down a bit as he dwelt on the troubling thought. What had happened that Legolas seemed more reserved with him now of all times? When Elrohir was finally nearing the age when more than suggestive talk and cautious contact could take place between them?

He looked up at the sound of many voices and saw that Lindir and his fellows were approaching from the opposite direction, lutes, flutes and harps in hand. With a start, he saw his parents and Elladan coming up just behind them with a few of their Silvan guests in tow. But they did not see him.

Of a sudden, Elrohir did not wish to join them. He was in a pensive mood this eve and was not certain he was up to the effort of hiding the fact. And they would notice it. Elladan especially would know. Elrohir did not care to have to account for his behavior to them. Not tonight.

He abruptly turned on his heel and hastened around the first corner ere they spotted him. Whereupon he slammed into another Elf.

While Elrohir managed to right himself, the other Elf landed on his rump on the floor. The twins had grown much in the last few years and not just in height and girth but also in heft. Small wonder the slighter Wood-elf could not withstand a collision with the younger twin even if he still had a few inches on him.

Elrohir hurriedly helped the other up, profusely apologizing as he did. Only when the Elf lifted his head after dusting himself off did he recognize him.

This was the counsellor who had confronted Legolas way back about his friendship with Elrohir. What was his name again? Beldulus? Elrohir had not known he was with the delegation. He and Elladan had only returned from a week-long scouting expedition with Glorfindel the afternoon before and thus had not been around to welcome Thranduil's envoys.

Beldulus stared at him likewise in recognition. "Ah, 'twas an accident," he stiffly said, waving away his apologies.

As he began to walk past Elrohir, he winced and gingerly rubbed his backside. At once, Elrohir took his arm and said: "You are hurt. Let me help you to the healing halls."

Beldulus shook off his hand. "Nay, 'tis probably little more than a bruise," he dismissed. "I am perfectly able to get around, _hîr neth_."—young lord.

"Are you certain?"

"Quite."

At a loss as to how to end their exchange on a more amicable note, Elrohir impulsively said: "I hope you are enjoying your visit to our fair valley."

The counsellor stared at him in some surprise, then nodded and replied: "We are. Your sire is an excellent host."

"As your king was to us years ago," Elrohir replied, returning the compliment to his father. "I trust he is well?"

"He is," Beldulus affirmed, unbending just the least bit. "The forest has been quiet of late."

"And Legolas? How does he fare?"

Beldulus's expression abruptly altered. All traces of congeniality fled to be replaced by a flinty glare. Elrohir started at the sudden change.

"The prince is _very_ well," Beldulus said with a touch of frostiness. He looked at Elrohir somewhat speculatively. "Indeed, the most avidly discussed topic these days are the wagers regarding his latest exploit."

Something about the way the Elf uttered that last statement set off warning bells in Elrohir's mind. "Wagers?" he repeated, daring to fish for more information.

The counsellor smirked. "That is correct. It seems he has been eyeing someone for many years," he unexpectedly supplied. "I confess, it took many of us by surprise when we learned of it. But then our prince was not known for restraint in his youth and, while he has tempered some, it seems his predatory urges have not entirely vanished." Seeing Elrohir's growing uncertainty, he added just a tad snidely: "Of course, considering how unusual this Elf is, it is no wonder the prince set his sights on him. And so he bides his time, awaiting the young one's coming of age ere he plucks him from the vine so to speak."

Pain lanced through Elrohir as if he were struck in the heart with a bowman's bolt. Legolas had been toying with him? He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat at the thought of having been little more than prey to the archer. And willing prey at that!

He became aware that Beldulus was watching him closely, a gleam of amusement in his eyes. The counsellor was enjoying his discomfort, Elrohir realized, his ire flaring. Well, a pox on him! The younger twin struggled not to allow any more of his dismay to surface.

With a monumental effort, he met Beldulus's gaze and coolly said: "That is interesting news, counsellor. Legolas will be most grateful to you for keeping us abreast of his latest endeavors."

He took small comfort in Beldulus's sudden consternation. With a dip of his head, he left the Elf to his apprehensions and walked back the way he came.

His first impulse was to hasten to the Hall of Fire and inform his parents and twin about what he had learned. But he swiftly reconsidered the move. They would automatically forbid him to continue keeping in touch with Legolas and that would end all chances of discovering the circumstances behind Beldulus's sordid tale. This Elrohir did not desire. For he still preferred to know the whole truth even if it deeply wounded him, than learn only a fraction and wonder evermore about the parts of the story left untold.

He returned to his quarters instead to think the situation over.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, he tried to make sense of his discovery. His thoughts collided and scattered in riotous disharmony for many agonizing minutes before he was able to corral them into some semblance of order.

It seemed so out of character for Legolas to be open about his intentions if he truly meant to pursue such an ignoble course, he reasoned. Surely he knew word of it would get to Elrohir somehow and that would be the end of it. Perhaps there was more to this than Beldulus had said or knew. Besides, Elrond and Celebrían believed Legolas was sincere and Elrohir completely trusted his parents' perceptiveness and judgment of character.

A wave of lassitude washed over him, his seesawing emotions leaving him feeling drained and adrift. Crawling onto his bed, he decided to wait until the morrow ere taking action whatever that action may be.

Sleep did not come easily, however, nor was it restful when it finally took him. His dreams were troubled though he could not remember them when he awakened before the crack of dawn. He sat up, his head throbbing from the lack of peaceful slumber. And his heart was no less burdened than it had been the night before. He placed his hand over his breast, as if feeling the verbal arrow still lodged therein.

He rose from the bed and walked out onto the balcony. It was still very dark but the stars were no longer visible and wispy tendrils of light were beginning to streak across the firmament. He stepped back into his room, his eyes roaming aimlessly until they alighted on the writing desk.

Elrohir stared at the desk, a course of action quickly forming in his mind. He would get nowhere ruminating over the dilemma by himself. He would have to take this figurative bull by its horns if he wished to resolve the problem to his satisfaction. Yea, even if it broke his heart and tainted his trust.

A half hour and several discarded drafts later, he slid a folded sheet of parchment into a small leather case. This he fastened to the leg of the haggard that had borne witness to his correspondence with the woodland prince over the years. He watched as it took flight, soaring up toward the rose-tinged sky until it disappeared from his sight.

The Elf-knight hunkered down to await the hawk's return, faint hope barely staving off the threat of disillusionment and the sharp ache of first love under siege.

Glossary:  
lairë – Quenya for summer  
Eryn Galen – Greenwood the Great

_To be continued..._


	15. Misstep

**Title:** Misstep  
**Characters:** Legolas, Thranduil, Elrohir  
**Prompt:** 087. Life  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** When it comes to matters of the heart, even a seasoned warrior prince can make erroneous choices.

Eryn Galen  
Legolas swore under his breath several times as he read the newly come letter.

Only lately arrived after nigh eight weeks away making the rounds of the woodland realm's outposts on its northern, western and southern bounds followed by a patrol of the eastern borders as he and his band made their way back to the Wood-elves' kingdom, he was more than ready for a leisurely afternoon. But hardly had he emerged from a much longed for bath when someone knocked on his door. It was one of his personal attendants bearing the messenger haggard through which he dispatched letters to Imladris.

He'd been delighted to receive a letter from Elrohir right on the heels of his return to his father's halls. So much so that he did not take umbrage at the signs of tampering with the letter case, something which, in times past, had so befouled his mood that Elves scurried out of his way else they find themselves on the receiving end of one of his rare but fearsome outbursts.

The case was tied shut and only one who knew how to "speak" to the slender lacing about it could undo the knot instead of hopelessly tangling it. In the very unlikely event that someone did manage the feat, tying it up again was another matter. For again, only one who knew how could properly seal the case. Either way, there could be no hiding an attempt to gain unlawful access to royal communications.

The case was part of a set gifted on his father and him by their kinsman Celeborn and his Noldorin wife Galadriel upon Thranduil's assumption of the woodland throne. Thranduil had asserted that it was likely Galadriel's idea, claiming that only a Noldo could take joy in such deviousness.

But said deviousness had served Legolas well since the young Elf-knight's visit to Greenwood the Great. He had taught Elrohir how to use the case ere he returned home to ensure their exchanges remained secure and private. He did not discount the idea of ambition and resentment driving someone to the point of no longer caring whether or not he was caught tampering with correspondence not his. But neither was he about to make it easy for potential malfeasants.

Hastily yanking on a shirt and breeches, he stalked out of his room and headed for his father's study. The mere sight of his black expression was enough to ensure that the corridors he passed swiftly emptied of Elves. He burst in on Thranduil who was in the middle of a discussion with the palace butler. Galion knew his prince well enough to perceive what Legolas wanted without saying it. He took leave of Thranduil and left.

Thranduil frowned. Legolas was obviously in a stew over something. A dangerously simmering stew.

"What has you in such a state?" he inquired, eyeing his son curiously.

"How did Beldulus come to be part of the delegation to Imladris?" Legolas demanded, surprising his father with his vehemence. "I drew up the list of who would go, as you commanded me, and he was not on it."

"He was not," Thranduil agreed. "But after you left, it occurred to me that Beldulus is much too insular for his own good and that he would benefit from a spell in a foreign realm under another Elf's rule."

Legolas's scowl deepened. "I wish you had informed me of your decision, Father. I had my reasons for keeping Beldulus and others of his ilk here."

"Such as?"

Legolas shoved something at him so closely, the king had to pull back his head to see what it was that had nearly collided with his nose. With a frown, he took the piece of parchment from his son and unfolded it. His eyes widened, then narrowed as he read the letter's contents.

_Greetings, Legolas._

_I noticed that you have been quite sparing with your last communications. I had hoped this was only due to your many obligations and that neither you nor your sire have been beset by troubles. But something has come to my attention that has cast another light on your reticence with me._

Elrohir went on to recount his unfortunate encounter with Beldulus. He did so in a straightforward manner but with a sparse eloquence even the Elvenking's most diplomatically-inclined scribes would be hard-pressed to match. Definitely a son of Elrond, Thranduil thought with grudging admiration.

The youth refrained from florid language yet his hurt and bewilderment came across in every elegantly worded sentence. It was clear he harbored fears of less than respectful usage and desired clarity with regard to Legolas's intentions. But so politely articulate was his letter that no word of reproach or demand was there to be read. By the time he was done reading, Thranduil's esteem for the young Peredhel had risen considerably. As had his opinion of the Elf-knight's suitability as partner to a forest prince.

Thranduil looked up at his son when he was through. "You never apprised him of your plan?" he said a little incredulously. At Legolas's part angry, part sheepish confirmation, he asked, "Why?"

The archer shook his head, spreading his hands in what appeared to be a gesture of helplessness. "When he bade me farewell last we parted, he reiterated his trust in me," he said. "And also his belief in my kindness and nobility. I could not bring myself to besmirch his vision of me by revealing how capable I am of deception and underhanded dealings."

The king regarded him with some astonishment ere glancing at the missive once more. "And your 'reticence'? Why did you turn miserly in your correspondence with him?"

Legolas sighed. "For the same reason. There was always a chance I would reveal however unwittingly what I was about. You know that has always been a failing of mine and your main reason for never entrusting crafty correspondence to me." He hesitated then added: "I think you should know, there were attempts to unseal Elrohir's first letters to me after his visit here."

Thranduil's baleful mien bespoke his anger at the thought of any Wood-elf sinking so low. "The bindings on our letter cases resist tampering. Whatever else I might think of them, the Noldor are masters of such devices," he pointed out. "There is naught for you to fear from that quarter. Nor from Elrohir were you to inform him of your deception."

Legolas ran his fingers through his hair a tad agitatedly. "And if he disapproves?" he questioned. "Or thinks me a lecherous rogue and chooses to break off ties with me? What then?"

The king was rendered speechless for a space by his son's uncharacteristic lack of self-assurance. Not to mention his tortuous reasoning.

"Legolas, your Elf-knight will understand that what you do is but a mere ploy," Thranduil reasoned. "I hardly think he would deem you a cad for weaving an illusion to throw others off your trail. And even if his admiration for you falters somewhat, surely your repute can withstand a little tarnishing.""

"'Tis not my repute I wish to protect but his innocence," Legolas demurred.

Thranduil stared at him. "You speak as if he were still the lad you last saw," he said. "Yet in two years, that innocence you speak of will be much reduced and by no less than your very own self!"

Seeing Legolas's stunned expression, the Elvenking sighed and rubbed his brow in some exasperation. "'Tis a mark of your regard for him that you are so careful with him even to the point of absurdity. And yet, in your desire not to hurt him, you have actually helped bring it about."

Legolas had recovered his composure but not his former confidence. "So I have," he ruefully murmured. "Ah, what is wrong with me? I have never been craven even in the direst of times."

"Nor have you ever given your heart before," his father said. "Verily, you have allowed your feelings about someone to muddle your judgment," he wryly remarked. "Nonetheless, I must point out that you do Elrohir a disservice by treating him as if he were still a child in need of sheltering. He is a scion of the House of the Mariner and Elrond's son. 'Tis guidance you should render him, not coddling. You cannot always protect him from life's difficulties, but you can help him learn to protect himself."

Silence was his answer. For the longest while, Legolas stared at him, his eyes betraying a riotous mix of emotions. It was apparent that his attachment to Elrohir was far greater than even Legolas himself had realized for him to have allowed his feelings to get the better of his reason. For the first time in all his long years.

He wondered if young Elladan's suitor had also been similarly stricken. Oh yes, Thranduil had not missed the possessive scrutiny that had followed the older twin about either, carefully veiled though it had been. It seemed Elrond had sired a pair of spellbinders.

"Beguilement is an egregious understatement," he muttered in resignation. "More like bewitchment."

Legolas heard and wanly smiled. "It would seem so, given the extent to which I have willingly permitted myself to be driven to secure my claim on him." He regarded his father musingly. "Have you ever regretted sending me to Imladris that summer?"

Thranduil snorted. "You would have met him sooner or later and I doubt the outcome would have been any different. He draws you as no other has. And you likely owned him from your first words onward." He handed the letter back to Legolas. "Speaking of words, you had best set some down in writing and soonest. It would be the height of folly to lose what you have thus far gained for lack of a proper reply. And _that_ I cannot accept from an Elf of our House!"

Thanking his sire for his counsel, Legolas returned to his quarters. Sitting himself at his writing desk, he read Elrohir's letter once more. For a long while, he thought about what he could say to assuage the youth's hurt.

The time for dissimulation was over. Indeed, there had never been a need for it save in his own misguided imaginings. He hoped Elrohir would understand his reasons and forgive him for the confusion and anxiety his silence has caused him.

He picked up a quill, sharpened its tip and dipped it into the inkwell. With the Elf-knight's fair countenance in mind, he began to write.

_To be continued..._


	16. Answers

**Title:** Answers  
**Characters:** Elrohir, Elladan, Legolas  
**Prompt:** 072. Fixed  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** The resumption of Elrohir's trust in Legolas hangs in the balance.

Imladris  
The twins were on their way back to their quarters after archery practice when the retainer found them.

"Your messenger hawk has arrived bearing a letter," he said to Elrohir. "But the falconers cannot approach it for a strange falcon guards it and refuses to let them near."

The brethren glanced at each other in puzzlement. "Guards it?" Elrohir repeated as he and Elladan switched directions and headed for the mews instead. "How so?"

"It threatens to attack whenever they try to get close to the haggard," the Elf explained. "Not even Herion managed to appease it."

That was news indeed that any bird of prey should resist Elrond's head falconer. The twins quickened their strides.

The mews were located behind the house, separated by a patch of lawn. But Elladan and Elrohir discovered that there was no need to enter the small building that housed their family's winged hunters. The haggard and its protective companion were perched on the boundary fence of the weathering yard beside the mews. Herion and his assistants were gathered in the yard, keeping a decent distance from the birds. There was a ragged tear in the head falconer's sleeve.

Elrohir peered at the smaller raptor, a frown creasing his brow. "Where have I seen this falcon before?" he muttered. A moment later, he caught his breath and gasped: "Elbereth! It is Legolas's hunting bird!"

Elladan stared at him. "Are you sure?" he asked, glancing at the brown-feathered creature.

"Very sure," Elrohir said. He began to walk toward the pair.

Herion caught him by the shoulder. "Be careful, young master," he cautioned. "It can do you great injury."

"It will not hurt me," Elrohir assured him.

He lifted his hand to the falcon invitingly. To the others' amazement, the bird flew straightly to him and almost daintily landed on his forearm, talons only loosely gripping him to keep from injuring his unprotected arm.

"It has been long since we last met, my friend," Elrohir soothingly murmured to the creature. It responded by bating its feathers lightly then settling comfortably once more. Elrohir smiled and said, "What does your cousin bear that Legolas deemed in need of your vigilance?"

As he spoke, he walked to the haggard. Allowing the falcon to perch once more on the fence, he removed the message case from the hawk's leg. The falcon made nary a move or sound of protest.

Elrohir motioned to Herion to come closer. When the Elf warily approached, he said: "Take good care of them. And do not fear. This one will not harm you now that its mission is done."

Having seen to the birds' care, he hastened back to his room, pulling Elladan along. The older twin looked at him curiously, noting his pensive expression.

"Are you certain you wish for me to know what he has to say?" he asked. "You did not even want to tell me what Beldulus claimed for fear of prejudicing me against Legolas."

"I am certain," Elrohir answered. "If his reply disappoints me, I will have need of your comfort. But if it does not, then I would have you know soonest that you may discard whatever hard feelings you nurse against him."

Elladan sighed as they entered his brother's room. "It will not be so simple as that," he said. "You were hurt due to his failure to tell you what he was about. The reason for his silence will have to be very good indeed!"

Elrohir beamed gratefully at him. He got into his bed and scooted up to lean against the headboard. Elladan sat facing him, legs folded and arms resting on them. He waited expectantly as his twin unsealed the case and took out the missive within. The crackling sound of crisp parchment being unfolded seemed loud in the silent chamber. Elrohir glanced at his twin ere he began to read the letter.

_My Elrohir,_

_You are doubtless surprised by the manner of this letter's delivery. It was to ensure that you alone would receive it for there is much I have to say that would cause no small amount of trouble for us were the wrong folk to know of it. Not that I would permit anyone to bar my way but I did not wish to expose you to the petty machinations of those who fear to lose their places in my father's kingdom._

_Ere I begin, I must apologize for hurting you. I did not realize until late that my reticence was doing you more harm than good. But know my intentions were otherwise. I longed to spare you the sordid details of the ill will of a benighted few against you, as well as maintain the secrecy of our pact. Unfortunately, I tend to be incautious when I set my thoughts down on paper, a failing my father knows of and for which reason he refrains from having me execute documents that require utmost discretion._

Elrohir looked up at Elladan, his surprise mirrored in his brother's face. He shook his head and continued reading.

_Beldulus was not supposed to be part of the delegation. I drew up the list of who would go and chose only Elves who are loyal to me and, therefore, predisposed to be amiable toward you. But I left on an extended tour of our outposts that kept me away for nigh two months and, in that time, Father decided to include Beldulus in the party in the hope that, by spending a length of time under your sire's rule, he would learn to be less insular in his ways. I only discovered this change when I returned and read your letter._

_It is indeed the talk in my father's court that my kindness to you is no more than a ploy to gain your affection and thus win your trust enough to demand the privilege of deflowering you. I have not refuted this and I confess to you now that it was I who instigated the rumor and allowed it to spread._

Elrohir could not help faltering to a stop at this point. He lowered his head and bit his suddenly trembling lip, feeling as if his heart would burst. He vaguely felt Elladan's hand on his knee, gripping it tightly. Swallowing hard, he raised his head and gazed beseechingly at his twin, seeking the courage to continue.

"Surely he had good reason," Elladan murmured.

Elrohir nodded and forced himself to continue.

_My demeanor toward you was never a ploy, my Elf-knight. But the rumor I spread is. I think you have guessed that the Silvan nobles had hoped to secure their place through a union between me and one of theirs, an ambition they had all but deemed realized since there are no eligible Elves amongst our Sindarin populace. Needless to say, our friendship threatened that hope and they did not hesitate to make their displeasure known._

_Father does not fear a popular uprising against us for the common folk love and respect him and he has always had their full support. But any dissent can be perilous to us as a whole. The Elves of this realm have survived through the years because of their gallant hearts and nigh unbreakable solidarity. Discontent and frustration amongst their numbers however minimal can endanger us in that they can breed grudges and less than noble intentions. Even treacherous ones. Father and I can contain any mischief ere it becomes a menace to the kingdom. But to even have to do so would expose the presence of a rift at court and that in turn would serve to demoralize the others. Neither of us cares to test our people in sudden adversity when their mettle has been compromised even the least bit._

_I thought it best to divert them from examining my interest in you too closely and at the same time salve something of their pride which took a blow when I paid more attention to you than they have ever seen me lavish on any of their own children. Most have since taken collective pride in the notion of a mere Wood-elf plucking the innocence of one of Elrond's sons. A very few are not so easily convinced and are no doubt responsible for the occasional attempts to tamper with our missives. However, my caution was not due to fear that they would succeed in gaining access to our correspondence._

_Foolish as it may sound, I kept my silence because I did not want your regard for me to suffer. I feared you would be disillusioned with me once you learned how capable I am of skullduggery when in pursuit of a desire and disgusted as well by the sordid effects of my scheme. I could not bear the thought that you might dispense with our friendship forthwith, not to mention rescind your request due to the current circumstances._

_I cannot lie. I have avidly looked forward to that day since you made your request of me. But it was never the claiming of your first bedding alone that mattered. I saw it as another means to bind you closer to me._ _For so intimate an act, when undertaken with another dear to one's heart, becomes the outward expression of that affection rather than a mere coupling of bodies._

Elrohir halted once more, the frank mention of what could come of his request causing a funny flutter in the pit of his stomach. He glanced with some embarrassment at Elladan but his brother smiled understandingly and gestured to him to continue.

_Dearest one, you did not make your request with the fulfillment of an arcane ritual or the expansion of your education in mind, but because you trusted that I would see you through that event with all the care, affection and respect you deserve. I pray that trust has not been shaken and that you will still welcome me into your presence come your majority. I promise you, I will see to your needs to the utmost of my abilities and mayhap win myself more than a first taste of your graces._

_Again, I ask your forgiveness and fervently hope that I may still deem you my own Elrohir. _

_At your service,_

_Legolas_

Elladan stifled a chuckle at the sight of his brother's crimson cheeks. He wondered if Elrohir now regretted sharing Legolas's letter with him. For there was no denying that the Elf-knight had just received his first real love letter.

"Now that is what I call an explanation," he finally quipped. "Are you appeased, brother?"

Elrohir looked at him, eyes shining in elation though his cheeks continued to burn. "And you?" he countered.

Elladan smirked. "'Tis what you think that matters," he said. "But, yea, I am. And obviously, so are you." He regarded his twin as the latter dropped his eyes to the letter once more. Savoring ever word written in Legolas's bold hand no doubt. "He feared you would be put off by his scheme. I assume you are not."

The younger twin shook his head. "I am dismayed that he thought me so quick to judge him that he did not apprise me of it. But then, last he saw us, we were only mere lads and still quite sheltered. Small wonder he worried that I might not understand."

Elladan snorted humorously. "And you are just as quick to defend him," he teased.

Elrohir almost stuck his tongue out at him then thought better of it and nudged his brother's leg with his foot instead. He rose from the bed and headed for his writing desk. Elladan rolled his eyes and got to his feet as well.

"Really, Elrohir, I am sure Legolas will not mind waiting a few days for your reply," he pointed out.

"But I cannot wait a few days to make it," Elrohir replied as he seated himself at the table. He half turned to look at Elladan. "Thank you for staying by me through this," he said. "I would have been lost without your company."

"Which you do not need at the moment," Elladan retorted good-naturedly. He strolled to the door. "Give my regards to Legolas. But warn him that he had better behave himself if he hopes to be of any use to you."

Elrohir laughed softly as his brother departed. He turned back to the desk and took out a sheet of parchment. Before long, the sharp scent of ink permeated the air.

oOoOoOo

_Elladan sends you his regards. But he also instructed me to tell you to behave yourself if you hope to be of any use to me. Those were his exact words and I suggest you heed them for Elladan is not one to make idle threats._

Legolas chuckled ruefully at the warning. Reserved, ever politic Elladan could be most acerbic and blunt when it came to ensuring his brother's well-being. He sighed and went on reading.

Elrohir's letter had begun with his customary recounting of events in Imladris, including news of the woodland party's activities thus far, as well as his and Elladan's latest accomplishments under Erestor and Glorfindel's guidance. He referred to Legolas's explanation briefly, saying only that he regretted their lengthy separation and that he understood the archer's reasons for acting as he had.

Legolas would have liked a more explicit declaration of forgiveness but appreciated Elrohir's caution nonetheless. After all, if there were any who would take inordinate interest in their communications, they were here, in Eryn Galen. Best not to take the chance, however unlikely, that some fool of an Elf might force the letter case open and discover the truth of their relationship.

Coming to the last paragraph, however, he suddenly sat up straight. He all but held his breath as he carefully read the passage.

_With regard to your inquiry, I would indeed appreciate it were you to instruct me until I have learned my lessons well. I hope that your difficulties will be resolved to your satisfaction soonest that I may partake of your able tutelage once again. _

_May the light of blessed Elbereth shine upon you always._

_Yours truly,_

_Elrohir_

Legolas blew his breath out. He leaned back in his chair and, closing his eyes, took a moment to enjoy his relief. There was no need for a more overt expression of forgiveness. The Elf-knight's discreet affirmation of their pact said everything. After a while, he read the letter once more, relishing the renewed sense of closeness his opening up to Elrohir had fostered.

As he read, an image of Elrohir unfolded in his mind. He saw the young Elf-knight he remembered as the adult he would surely become: perilously beautiful of countenance, inordinately tall as the Elves and just as lean of frame, yet possessed of a solidity that could only serve to imbue him with an allure that was singularly Peredhil. Legolas's intermittent pangs of craving bloomed into an aching lust to have that glorious form spread beneath him, yielding to the archer with all the sweet wantonness of an innocent learning the ways of the flesh.

He wryly smiled as he considered that his scheme was not altogether a ruse. That Elrohir's virtue was his for the taking had not been entirely due to the younger twin's wishes alone. Legolas could not deny to himself that he had encouraged Elrohir's infatuation or that he had engaged in a long-drawn, subtle seduction of Elrond's son.

But as he had earlier declared, the claiming of Elrohir's innocence alone was not enough for him. Verily, it could never be enough once he had been bewitched, as his father asserted, by the considerable charms of Rivendell's incomparable Elf-knight.

_To be continued..._


	17. Quandary

**Title:** Quandary  
**Characters:** Elrohir, Legolas, Elladan, Eldacar  
**Prompt:** 091. Birthday  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** The twins come of age at last and a long awaited promise nears fulfillment.

Imladris, _Yavannië_ T.A. 189  
The twins' fiftieth begetting day dawned on a valley rife with the anticipation of revelry and joy. Two ages of the world had gone by since the last majority celebration of a scion of the lines of the Elvenkings of old: venerable Elu Thingol of Doriath, sage Fingolfin, High King of the Noldor, and valiant Turgon of Gondolin. Was it any wonder that all elvendom and members of the House of Elros had marked the day's significance?

The Last Homely House teemed with representatives from every extant elven realm left in Middle-earth as well as the Peredhil's royal kin of Arnor. King Valandil himself had come, as had his wife and children foremost of whom was the heir apparent, Prince Eldacar. They mingled with Círdan of the Havens and a number of his mariners, Amroth of Lothlórien and many folk of the Wandering Companies led by Gildor Inglorion. Of even more import to the brethren was the presence of their mother's parents Celeborn and Galadriel of whom they were very fond but did not see as often as they desired.

But no delegate from the woodland realm of Eryn Galen had yet arrived and this was cause for concern for at least one twin. Though he was savvy enough not to reveal said concern when in the presence of others outside of his family, there was no denying that Elrohir was not in the highest of spirits for so momentous an event.

Given the reason for the day's excitement, most of the conversations centered on the festivities planned for the evening and abated little when the bells chimed to summon everyone to the midday meal. Celebrian's impeccably beautiful garden was being turned into a veritable wonderland of torch-lit pathways, lantern-hung spaces and garlanded pavilions, tables and benches. The meats for the feast were already slowly cooking on their spits, their delectable aromas discernable to any who ventured near the outdoor pits by the kitchens. And every minstrel in residence had composed at least one song each with which to serenade the celebrants and their guests through the night.

Elladan and Elrohir found themselves at table with their royal kinsfolk. Valandil and his queen sat with Elrond and his wife and law-parents, their discussion covering a wide range of topics from the sublime to the mundane. The twins, on the other hand, were grouped with the Dúnedain princes and princesses. Glorfindel and Erestor prudently joined them to guide or temper any exchanges should the need arise.

By meal's end, Elladan was embroiled in a debate regarding the not always aboveboard politicking at the Arnorian court. Not so Elrohir who faced a crown prince whose interest at the moment lay more in the twins' upcoming majority celebration than in the goings-on of his father's kingdom.

"I have heard that you hold in your treasury the original trysting cup of the royal house of Númenor," he assayed.

"We do," Elrohir replied. "Elendil spirited it away along with other ancient treasures when the Faithful forsook Armenelos and withdrew to Rómenna. He shared his father's fear that calamity would overtake Númenor before too long and hoped to preserve something of his family's heritage."

"I have oft wondered how he managed so audacious a theft of royal property," Eldacar mused.

"Ar-Pharazôn was not alone in employing spies to ferret out the secrets of the Elendili," Elrohir pointed out. "Lord Amandil also had agents sown amongst the royal household even unto the ranks of the King's Men. They aided Elendil in his venture."

Eldacar considered the information with a small smile. "Strange that my foresire shared that story with your father yet kept it from his own sons."

Elrohir grinned. "Perhaps he did not wish to encourage them to embark on a similar course of noble-minded thievery," he suggested.

The prince snorted. "Little good did his secrecy do him then, considering that my grandfather dared to sneak into the courts of Armenelos and steal a fruit off Nimloth's branches!"

They both laughed at this evidence of the reckless streak Elendil and Isildur had apparently shared.

"I have also heard that your father expects you and your brother to carry out our first night rite this eve," Eldacar continued after their mirth subsided. "Is this truth or mere rumor?"

Elrohir shook his head. "Father does not expect it of us," he clarified. "He only gave us the option to observe it if we are so inclined."

"And are you?" Eldacar quizzed him. "Or perhaps, more to the point, can you?" At Elrohir's perplexed expression, he added, "Forgive me if I am being too forward for your taste, but I noticed a dearth of eligible Elf-females amongst this assemblage. I wondered if there were any for you to choose from that I have simply not marked."

"You are correct, there are none amongst our women who are free for such a purpose," Elrohir said. "But the same cannot be said for the male-folk and we are free to choose from their ranks if we wish."

"Then you _are_ so inclined," the prince remarked. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the tabletop, eyes alight with interest.

Elrohir hesitated, unsure whether Eldacar was referring to his proclivity for the male of the species or his perceived desire to observe the rite. He opted for the latter though the former was not at all improbable. After all, the Dúnedain had no prejudices with regard to like gender relations so long as they did not get in the way of siring progeny and the perpetuation of their race.

"Elladan is not," he said. "He deems himself still unready for bodily intimacy. But even were he not, he would still balk at the public nature of it all."

"But what of you?" Eldacar queried. "Are you opposed to our ancient tradition?"

"I am not opposed to it."

"Then you are of a mind to observe it this eve?"

Elrohir shrugged. "If my choice desires it as well."

"Desires it?" the prince repeated in puzzlement. "What does that have to do with a royal prerogative? One need only be willing to do one's duty. Indeed, 'tis unheard of to spurn a prince's suit. To be chosen is counted a great honor amongst us and there are not a few who do not leave the matter to chance but actively pursue it."

The bald assertion reduced Elrohir to momentary muteness. Aware of the younger twin's slight disconcertment, Erestor smoothly intervened from beside the prince. "'Tis a great honor indeed, Highness," he agreed. "But it is not our way for the simple reason that we were made to relinquish life should we be forced into unwanted intimacy."

"Ah, but of course," Eldacar conceded. "Yet I cannot conceive of anyone refusing to take first night rites with one as beauteous as my kinsman here." Before Erestor could respond, he looked at Elrohir and added with a smile, "If there are none among your folk who are willing, rest assured you need not choose from them alone."

Elrohir caught his breath at the tacit invitation to look to the Dúnedain for his partner. It seemed he had implied that anybody would do so long as he or she did not object. About to amend Eldacar's assumption, he realized the prince was regarding him with much more than mere admiration. Nay, Eldacar was not suggesting that Elrohir pick from among the Men of Arnor. Rather he was offering his own services. Elrohir found himself at a loss for words.

He had expected speculation about his and Elladan's plans for the night. But not once had he thought that anyone would actually make an overture. He regarded his royal kinsman with equal parts astonishment and curiosity.

The Man was handsome, that went without saying. He had also likely experienced more than his fair share of bedding innocents. And he certainly was no laggard in seduction. Even now, he was exerting the subtlest of pressure, allowing Elrohir to see how much he appreciated his charms and making it quite clear that he would not mind being the Elf-knight's choice of companion for the night. Elrohir would have had to be made of stone not to react in some way to the subtle importuning. His cheeks heated up with the beginnings of a full-blown blush.

Eldacar shook his head. "By Eru, you could tempt the Powers themselves, cousin," he huskily remarked. "All the more do I hope that you will permit me to guide you this eve."

The implication of his statement could not be mistaken. Dismayed, Elrohir glanced at Erestor for help. But the counsellor slightly shook his head. As Eldacar's suggestion had been directly addressed to him, Elrohir would have to respond to it himself.

"There is always the chance I will prove too craven to actually carry it out," he said with a nervous laugh. "I do not care to blunder my way through the rite in front of everyone."

Eldacar chuckled. "Oh, you need not follow every step to the last exact detail," he replied, his smile widening. "'Tis the intent that counts. All else can be subject to interpretation."

Elrohir stifled a sigh. His attempt at ambiguity had been taken as affirmation instead. Anxious not to embarrass either Eldacar or himself, he floundered for a diplomatic reply.

"It will be interesting to see how you carry out your interpretation of the rite then."

For a moment, Elrohir thought his heart would stop. Even did he not know that voice, he would have identified the speaker from his scent alone. He swiftly rose to his feet, turning as he did, mouth curving into a delighted smile.

"You are here at last!" he softly exclaimed.

Legolas's eyes swept over him in swift appraisal. But his questioning glance at the Arnorian prince alerted Elrohir to the fact that he had overheard their exchange even before the archer dryly voiced it.

"And not a moment too soon it seems."

* * *

Glossary:  
Yavannië – ninth month of the year; approximately the period between 22 August and 20 September  
Armenelos – capital city of Númenor  
Rómenna – city in the east of Númenor where the Elendili were forced to reside  
Elendili – 'Elf-friends'; also known as the Faithful, the party of Númenoreans who opposed the severance of relations with the Eldar and rebellion against the Valar  
Ar-Pharazôn – last king of Númenor whose attempt to invade Valinor led to the destruction of the Land of the Star  
Nimloth – the White Tree in the Courts of Armenelos that was descended from Galathilion, the White Tree of Tirion in Eldamar

_To be continued..._


	18. Intimation

**Title:** Intimation  
**Characters:** Elladan & Elrohir, Legolas, Eldacar  
**Prompt:** 060. Drink  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** The fulfillment of an old request comes ever nearer to realization.

If there ever was a spot that Elrohir might deem tight, he was in it. He glanced nervously from Legolas to Eldacar, wondering what the archer had made of his conversation with the Dúnadan prince. He was pointedly sizing up Eldacar and, not surprisingly, Eldacar was doing the same though perhaps not as openly.

To the Elf-knight's relief, the others at table converged on them to welcome the archer. Elladan and Glorfindel and Erestor and also his parents and grandparents, with Celeborn asking after his kinsman Thranduil. And once he had greeted Legolas, Elrond naturally made the proper introductions between the woodland prince and the Arnorian rulers and their children.

Saved for the moment, Elrohir tried to think of how to best allay Legolas's suspicions regarding Eldacar's overtures. But he was distracted by how utterly splendid the archer looked though he was still clad in hardy traveller's raiment. The very simplicity of his attire served to point up his withy strength and wild Wood-elven beauty. Merciful Eru, how much more comely would he appear come the night's festivities?

Someone clapped him on the shoulder. Startled, he stared at Eldacar as the latter came to stand at his side, regarding him with wry amusement. The Man glanced at Legolas then looked at him again.

"'Tis he you hope to take the first night rite with, isn't he?" Eldacar queried rhetorically. When Elrohir shyly nodded, the prince smiled and, leaning close, murmured, "I laud your taste, cousin, and concede this round. But if he fails to satisfy you, rest assured that I will be most willing to remedy your discontent."

This last he said a mite more loudly than necessary. Alarmed, Elrohir sharply turned his head and found Legolas watching him with a smile that did not reach his eyes. He inwardly groaned and wondered if any would mind if he kneed his mischievous kinsman in the groin or a similarly sensitive region. Eldacar dipped his head to the archer and walked away to join some comrades at another table.

"Do enlighten me as to how many more I must compete with for your favors," Legolas coolly inquired, his eyes sliding from the flustered youth to the departing Man.

"There are no others!" Elrohir protested, barely keeping his voice down. "Surely you do not think that I would entertain other suits."

Dark gold eyebrows rose questioningly. "Even if I am late enough to give you cause to wonder about my intentions?"

Elrohir stared at him, mouth agape in astonishment. "Well, why _are_ you late?" he retorted a little tartly, brows knitted together in rising umbrage.

The archer shook his head and explained: "I led an expedition to destroy a colony of spiders that had nested too close to our kingdom. I could not leave such a vital mission to others for the sake of an early appearance here. That would have prematurely revealed my true priorities to everyone."

All traces of budding ire vanishing in an instant, Elrohir gasped and, catching the Wood-elf's hands in his, anxiously demanded, "Are you well, Legolas? You were not injured, were you? Forgive me for thinking ill of you!"

Legolas chuckled and, slipping his hands out of Elrohir's grip to clasp his between his palms in turn, said, "Nay, forgive me for mistrusting you when 'tis I who gave you greater cause to doubt me. I am well, my Elf-knight, and looking forward to celebrating what is left of this auspicious day with you." He glanced in Eldacar's direction, his eyes glittering just this side of frostily. "Rest assured that I will do my utmost to content you enough not to need remedying of anything."

Elrohir's face bloomed with color. "He was only teasing me," he murmured.

"Not as much as he was baiting me," Legolas snorted. "Well, he may bait me all he wishes. It is paltry recompense for losing the good fortune of sharing the coming night with you."

An inarticulate imprecation escaped Elrohir and he averted his eyes, painfully aware of a growing discomfort down yonder. "Please, Legolas, there is still the afternoon and this eve to bear through," he muttered. "Is it too much to ask that I do so with some ease?"

Legolas softly laughed. "Forgive me, sweet one," he said. Releasing Elrohir's hands, he swiftly scanned the hall. "Ah, I wish to have a word with Gildor. I desire to hear of news from abroad," he hastily added upon espying an ominous gleam in the younger twin's eyes.

Elrohir grinned impishly. "Never fear, I shall accompany you and make sure that Gildor stays on topic," he quipped.

The archer rolled his eyes. Taking Elrohir by the elbow, he led the way to where Gildor was seated with Círdan of the Havens. Now there was another Elf Legolas wished to acquaint himself with if only to ascertain whether his sire's opinion of the renowned shipwright was correct.

oOoOoOo

The stars shone brightly that evening as if in planned concert with the blazing torches and glowing lanterns that lit the spacious garden of the Last Homely House. Or perhaps they hearkened to the hallowed Mariner who watched his grandsons mark their coming of age from up on high. Whatever the cause, the firmament seemed far more brilliant than was usual for an autumn night.

But Elrohir did not appreciate any of it as much as he had expected to. Not the resplendence of his mother's garden or the elegant throng that presently filled it or the sumptuous multi-course banquet that for once put the gargantuan feasts of the Dwarves to shame. Nay, none of it made as great an impression on the younger twin as might have been the case in the absence of one noble guest.

"The night is still young, brother," he heard Elladan murmur from beside him, amusement and sympathy limning his voice. "Surely you can try and appear a little more enthusiastic about your own begetting day fête!"

He and Elladan had taken a rare moment to themselves in the relative seclusion of one of the festively embellished pavilions. Since the beginning of the celebrations they had spent nearly every minute in company with one guest or another.

They watched as several pairs danced to the lilting strains of the minstrels' instruments, in the circular space in the midst of the candlelit, food-laden long tables and benches. Elrohir's gaze was soon riveted on one couple in particular. He was not alone. Lady Galadriel and Legolas of Eryn Galen made a most winsome sight as they led the others in a graceful Silvan folkdance, Celeborn's wife exquisite in the cream and gold that were the colors of her grandsons' matching court tunics and mantles and the woodland prince handsomely turned out in pale grey adorned with sapphire braid and silver purl.

Elrohir wryly chuckled. "I am doing my best," he said. "But this is proving more difficult than I anticipated."

"Which is?" Elladan inquired. "The waiting or your performance of the rite?"

"Both!" Elrohir groaned. "I have never known such a need before," he confided. "If I do not assuage it before much longer, I think I shall go mad."

"Hmm, I dare say Legolas feels the same way judging from the fact that he has been eyeing you almost without cease," Elladan teased. "I wager he wishes you would carry out the rite forthwith that he might haul you off to the nearest bedchamber!"

Elrohir sobered. "As for that, I confess I am not certain I can do it, Elladan," he whispered.

The older twin frowned. "What do you mean? You have always displayed naught but assurance that you can carry out the rite."

"Easy enough to do when I was not yet faced with it. But now I find it not all that attractive a prospect to name my lover in so public a manner." Elrohir frowned as he regarded their numerous guests. "You told me that all the interest in your own choice dampened your ardor and persuaded you to put off your first bedding."

"'Twas not that alone," Elladan corrected. "Indeed, I envy you your lack of fear. Perhaps were my preference for maids, I would not be so anxious about shedding my innocence." His eyes strayed to the corner of the garden where their parents currently held court with Amroth and several Lórien nobles, with Glorfindel and Erestor ably ensuring that none was left to fend for himself. "But as that is not where my interest lies and there is a great possibility that 'twill be I who will yield—"

"You mean in all likelihood!" Elrohir cut in.

Elladan glowered at him then sighed. "Whatever the case, the thought of it frightens me. Indeed, it astounds me that you are so amenable to being speared. Why, you look forward to it with almost unseemly eagerness."

"I want him. How can I not desire union with him?" Elrohir earnestly said. "Are you saying you do not care as much for—?"

"I do!" Elladan insisted. "As Elbereth is my witness, I have wanted him for as long as I can remember. But he is so much older and wiser and so very beautiful and – and—"

"Well-endowed?"

Elladan flushed. "So I have heard."

"Ah, and you fear sheathing him will bring you pain?"

"Do you not fear it, too?"

"Of course I do," Elrohir readily admitted. "But, Elladan, what is wrong with a little discomfort at the brink of pleasure? Or great pain afore uttermost joy?"

Elladan looked at him, perplexed. "Uttermost joy?"

"Aye, think of women when they have their babes. They know pain and peril each time they bring life into the world. But the children they bear are as priceless treasures to them and deemed well worth all the trouble of carrying and birthing. In the face of their labors, what is the mere burn of a breaching for pleasure's sake? And such exquisite pleasure if we go by how much more extolled it is than decried."

The older twin chuckled ruefully. "How is it that you are the one counselling me when 'twas you who sought advice from me?" he commented. "But let us return to your problem. I take it you have been unexpectedly overtaken by a fit of modesty?"

Elrohir grimaced. "That is the toll of it."

"Well, you do not have to go through with it."

"But I do." Elrohir gestured in the general direction of their royal relations. "Eldacar did not keep the gist of our conversation to himself but has mentioned it to his sire and dam and all his siblings and they obviously thought nothing of sharing it with others as well. The whole Arnorian contingent has been watching me all evening, waiting for me to make a move." He sighed. "I do not want to cause ill feelings tonight of all nights and to retreat would indubitably do just that. They would deem it a slight; a judgment of their esteemed traditions."

"True," Elladan had to agree.

Men could be so quick to make assumptions but slow to amend them should they prove incorrect. Elrohir could talk himself blue in the face explaining that personal bashfulness had assailed him at the last moment but it was highly unlikely that they would believe him. It was more likely they would take offense at the perceived affront which, while it would not serve to sever diplomatic ties between Imladris and Arnor, could mar personal relations between Elrond and his brother's descendants.

Elladan's eyes wandered to Eldacar and those of his friends who presently attended him. The prince and his companions would look in their direction ever so often with open interest.

"Did not Eldacar tell you that the observance of it was subject to your interpretation?" Elladan suddenly asked.

"Aye, he did."

"Then there is naught to keep you from carrying it out in whatever manner you are most comfortable with. I dare say King Valandil will not mind how overtly or subtly it is performed so long as he and his folk bear witness to it."

Elrohir considered the suggestion. He grinned at Elladan. "I believe you are right, brother. My thanks."

oOoOoOo

Legolas surreptitiously searched the various groups of guests scattered about him. Just a moment ago, he had seen the twins walking together toward their parents, their plain _mithril_ circlets in stark contrast to their raven locks. But now only Elladan was with them. He wondered where the younger twin had taken himself.

As he scanned the grounds once more, he met Eldacar's gaze. The Man smiled and, detaching himself from his friends, sauntered over to the archer who was seated for the moment at one of the tables. He sat facing Legolas across the table.

"I think you and Lady Galadriel redefined the meaning of grace," he complimented.

Legolas courteously smiled and said, "She deserves all the credit. Only a complete stumblebum would not benefit from being partnered with her."

"You belittle your skills, of which I wager there is an abundance," Eldacar countered. "And which you would doubtless demonstrate to my cousin given the chance."

The Elf-prince allowed a minute to pass in silence ere responding. "I intend to," he tersely replied.

Eldacar had to grin at his confidence. "But what if he changes his mind? What will you do then?"

"He will not," Legolas shot back. "Neither Elrond nor his sons renege on their promises or turn away sage counsel. Which is more than can be said of some of their kin."

Eldacar shook his head at the subtle jab. "Are you suggesting that his promising you certain favors is a sign of sagacity?" he asked.

Legolas's smile widened. "You said it, not I," he pointed out.

The prince chuckled. "He must have been very young when you began your seduction of him," he mused. "Is that the way of your kind? To woo your youth ere they know enough to separate the wheat from the chaff?"

The archer did not stop smiling but his eyes chilled perceptively. "Nay, 'tis not our way. But I have heard that it can be yours." He continued before Eldacar could reply. "And in any case, Elrond's sons have always been wise beyond their years, even when I met them in their adolescence. I think they know full well how to separate the wheat from the chaff."

Eldacar regarded him thoughtfully. "You are possessive of him ere you have even possessed him," he remarked. "Does he feel as you, I wonder? Or will that change once you have satisfied some of his curiosity?"

"What are you implying?" Legolas retorted a little sharply.

The prince shrugged. "Only that I do not think you fancy yourself a mere teacher of the love arts. At least, where my kinsman is concerned. Yet, it is difficult to sustain exclusivity for years uncounted and with so many leagues separating your realms. How will you keep him constant short of mating with him?"

Legolas did not answer at once. His eyes took on a distant quality as if he were in another place. Or another time. At length, he seemed to come back to himself and he refocused his attention on Eldacar. The Man was taken aback when he peered into the latter's eyes. In that instant after the archer's introspective reverie, his long years were unveiled. How old was the Elf, Eldacar suddenly wondered.

"He may indeed wander," Legolas murmured. "And that is to be expected if he wishes to discover all he can of the world. But, eventually, he will learn his fill, and when he does, he will return to my side to stay."

Eldacar stared at him. "Why not simply ask him to bind to you if you desire to keep him?"

Legolas smiled humorlessly. "I have obligations that inhibit me for now from espousing myself outside of my kingdom. And it would be unfair to him to demand that he await the time that I will be free of those obligations. But," he added, his voice hardening. "That does not mean that I will make it easy for anyone to take him from me."

The prince pursed his lips, torn between amusement and dismay at the tacit warning. At length, he commented, "Be that as it may, it is way past the hour when the rite should have been conducted. Methinks he has lost the courage to push through with it after all."

"He has not," Legolas abruptly said, looking past him.

Eldacar turned his head and saw Elrohir slowly weaving his way through the throng, pausing here and there to speak with some of the guests. But his was no leisurely stroll. He was headed in their direction, bearing a goblet with both hands in nigh quaint formality.

His intent was not lost on anyone who knew of the ancient Edain custom even if it was not openly heralded or the crystal goblet he carried was no heirloom piece but taken from the banquet service. A secret smile curved the Elf-knight's lips when Legolas rose to his feet at his approach.

He halted before the Greenwood prince and lifted the goblet as if to toast him. Holding Legolas's gaze, he raised the goblet to his mouth and, never turning his eyes away, sipped the rich liquid. Lips glistening with the rosy libation, he afterward offered the goblet to the archer.

Legolas maintained a solemn mien save for the gleam in his eyes. Taking the goblet in his hands, he deliberately turned it around. Likewise holding Elrohir's gaze, he put his lips to the exact spot on the rim whence the Elf-knight had earlier drank and drained the goblet. He lowered it and returned it to Elrohir.

"My chamber or yours?" the Elf-knight murmured.

"Yours," Legolas huskily replied. "'Tis time we put your bed to use other than repose."

Elrohir nodded, his cheeks staining slightly. "I will wait for you," he whispered.

He turned his gaze sideways to where Valandil watched them from afar and bowed his head deferentially to the monarch and his queen. Valandil smilingly raised his goblet in approbation. Assured that the king was pleased, he looked briefly at Legolas ere walking back the way he came, cradling the empty goblet against his breast with one hand, with none the wiser to what he had done if they did not know enough to expect anything less than formal ceremony.

"Well done," Legolas heard Eldacar say admiringly.

The archer watched the Elf-knight go to his beaming twin's side.

"Well done indeed," he softly agreed, eyes aglow with anticipation.

_To be continued..._


	19. Shorn

**Title:** Shorn  
**Characters:** Legolas/Elrohir  
**Prompt:** 003. Ends  
**Rating:** M  
**Summary:** A long ago wish is granted and the beginning of a promised affair is finally realized.

Since his rooms overlooked the garden, Elrohir could hear the merriment still going on down yonder. He wondered how Elladan was doing and what his parents were telling the guests to explain his disappearance.

He would have stayed at the celebration for the requisite time. But after an hour of enduring his distracted manner, Elrond and Celebrían had given him leave to make an early exit, Celebrían's encouraging hug in stark counterpoint to Elrond's unexpected revelation that he had spoken to Legolas earlier in the evening and admonished him to treat Elrohir well or else. Elrohir did not quite know whether to be amused or horrified by his sire's intervention. Elladan had been no help at all, laughing unreservedly at the notion of their stately father confronting the woodland prince over the matter of his younger son's first bedding.

Under the circumstances, perhaps leaving ahead of time had been the best course of action to take. But a premature departure also entailed waiting a bit longer for Legolas to come to him, which was doing Elrohir's presently over active imagination not much good. He did not know whether time was passing too slowly or overly fast for comfort. On the one hand, it seemed to be taking Legolas forever to arrive. On the other hand, were he to arrive this very minute, Elrohir was quite certain he would be frightened out of his wits.

Elladan was right even if he had obfuscated the real reason for his fears, claiming an aversion to the experience of physical pain during one's first breaching. What truly troubled Elladan was entrusting himself to someone when he was at his most vulnerable. For there were few situations where one was as open to hurt and betrayal as when engaged in complete intimacy with another for whom one cared deeply.

It was a concern Elrohir shared. But unlike his twin, Elrohir was not one to let caution override his desires to the point of foregoing a chance that might not come his way again. And when that chance entailed winning him not only a skilled teacher but hopefully a lifetime lover as well, Elrohir was definitely not about to retreat before his fears.

Resisting the impulse to pace around his room, he seated himself on his balcony balustrade instead and strove to becalm his nervousness by watching the revelry below. This was Legolas, for Eru's sake, he reminded himself. The archer cared for him; would never break faith with him.

He did not delude himself that Legolas would not dally with others when they were apart. He had not demanded sexual fidelity of him nor did he have that right. But personal loyalty was another thing entirely and this Elrohir believed he had the right to ask of Legolas just as he was ready to swear the same to the archer.

If he had to choose, Elrohir would take the latter over the former without hesitation. Not that he was incapable of being both but he would not hold it against Legolas if he was not of the same mind.

So lost was he in his thoughts that he did not realize he was not alone until he heard his name uttered. He looked up, startled, and saw Legolas standing at his door, openly appraising him. He rose to his feet none too steadily, feeling as if his heart would give out any moment.

Legolas approached him. "You look as you did the first time I invited you for an evening stroll," he said as he came to stand before him. "All awash with moonbeam and starlight – you seemed as beautiful as a Vala to my eyes. And still do."

Before Elrohir could stammer a response, Legolas curled an arm around his waist and pulled him close. Elrohir caught his breath as their lips met. And parted. And all but melted together. In that instant, he knew his fate sealed for good.

How they found their way back into the room and onto his bed, he only vaguely remembered afterward. What made far more lasting impressions on his memory were the leisurely shedding of their clothes and the tantalizing caress of revealed flesh by lips and hands and tongue and being pressed down onto cool sheets by a strong, warm body while his mouth was thoroughly pillaged in tacit declaration of ownership.

Legolas could not help his possessiveness. Elrohir had not been the only one to await this moment with fiercely suppressed impatience. The unexpected attempt to encroach on what he deemed his had only sharpened his desire to a fine edge. And the baring of Elrohir's lean yet well-knit body did little to temper the urge to simply bury himself in the silken heat that awaited him.

It was Elrohir's expressive eyes that stayed him. In them he saw innocence and anxiety and utter trust. But most of all, radiant affection shone in their depths the likes of which he had never seen before. It came to him that, though this day heralded Elrohir's coming of age, 'twas he who had just been bestowed with a gift beyond compare.

"Thank you," he whispered, smiling at Elrohir's puzzlement, before he caught the young Elf in a lengthy kiss of such torrid tenderness, it was as sweetly moving as it was heart-stopping.

He applied himself to a slow but scorching exploration of Elrohir's graces. And what a bounty there was to be discovered. To go with his beauteous face was a body best kept under cover to keep it from being too much of a distraction when there was urgent work to be done. For who could resist such luminosity of skin infused with the warmth of color; the subtle play of finely hewn muscles in a frame too slender to be truly mannish yet more broad of shoulder and chest than the average Elf; or an engaging suppleness and sleek brawn which, when coupled with the Elf-knight's astuteness and sharp wit, presaged the emergence of a warrior lord of considerable prowess?

That Elrohir looked at him just as appreciatively, if not more so, added to his already well-stoked arousal. Legolas was proud of his body and had excellent reason for it. He had never been above using his beauty to lure whomever he wanted between the sheets with him and had little patience for assumed modesty and protestations of worth – coyness simply did not appeal to him.

But with Elrohir, that changed. The Elf-knight neither exaggerated his admiration of Legolas's attractions for courtship's sake nor made a pretense of his uncertainties as to whether he deserved the archer's reciprocation of desire. That shy forthrightness was vastly more seductive than anything Legolas had yet experienced in his long life.

Was it any wonder that he yearned to make Elrohir utterly his and ensure the youth would remember this first lesson for many years to come?

As for Elrohir, he was no prude. He could not be one in lore-steeped Imladris where bawdy tales were just as welcome as historical treatises. But to touch and be touched in places not seen by any other who was not his twin or his physician father since he left childhood behind had him torn between yearning for more and wanting to cover his flushed face with a pillow. Coupled with Legolas's throaty chuckles whenever he saw evidence of Elrohir's discomfiture and it was no mystery at all that the Elf-knight found himself in lovely turmoil throughout.

But then Legolas's attention came perilously close to his groin and Elrohir realized he had not yet experienced the outermost bounds of sexual play short of coupling itself. He gave a startled gasp when he felt the archer's mouth on him, the stroke of his tongue almost enough to undo him, then choked back a cry when Legolas wrapped his lips around his rigid flesh and drew upon it with a lustiness that bespoke a great enjoyment of the delectable mouthful.

To say it was a shock to be serviced so was an understatement. Elrohir had always known that there were many ways by which one Elf could pleasure another. But he did not always know what he did not know and, in any case, even if he understood the basics of bodily intimacy, such knowledge could not equal first-hand experience.

Yet he was also a Peredhel of strong desires and a streak of shameless adventurer in him. Once he comprehended the beauty and bliss of the act not only for himself but for Legolas as well, he cast aside his inhibitions and set himself to responding in kind.

"Wait, Legolas!" he panted, struggling to still the need to spend soonest. "Can I not do the same for you?"

Legolas looked at him with glittering eyes and a smirk that promised enough to leave Elrohir a-jitter. "Indeed you may," he huskily answered. He shifted about with a feline grace that showed his sleekly muscled body to full advantage.

Elrohir wondered if his heart could take the strain of so much frantic beating. But faced with the archer's impressive endowment, he forgot all else as his mouth went dry and his senses chose the moment to collude in a plot to stoke his desire beyond his control. Worries about his abilities abandoned him as he attacked the wellspring of his lust, making up for his lack of experience with sheer eagerness for this first taste of his archer love.

The woodland prince nearly forgot that he was the teacher to the Elf-knight's pupil in the wake of such happily voracious servicing. Elrohir was already proving a most apt student, Legolas nigh deliriously thought.

The years-long wait had its part in ensuring they would finish in a shorter while than either was accustomed to, even for Legolas who knew both his limits and what he was capable of. But as it took the edge off his desire, he did not mind. All the better if it helped prolong their pleasure for the rest of the evening.

He sat up and looked down at Elrohir who lay unmoving on his side, his eyes closed and his breathing uneven. The Elf-knight, unused to climaxing so intensely, had been somewhat enervated by it. Legolas let his gaze wander down his body all the way to his long legs, one bent slightly forward to reveal more of the delicate flesh hidden between the firm rounds of his backside, glistening with saliva and excess seed. Legolas licked his lips unconsciously in the manner of a cat assaying its prey.

He reached behind the near somnolent youth and smeared his fingers with the slippery fluids. Elrohir's eyes fluttered open, a question in their depths. They widened an instant later when Legolas worked a slick finger into him, teasing him a moment before slowly sliding it in to the knuckle. Elrohir came completely awake then, eyes fastened on Legolas in mingled anticipation and fright.

Instinctively, he began to bring his legs together defensively. But Legolas softly said, "I want you, Elf-knight." Elrohir promptly stopped. And, to Legolas's everlasting admiration, rolled completely onto his stomach, staunchly keeping his legs parted.

"I will not pretend that it matters little to me to be first to sup of your graces," Legolas murmured, pressing a kiss to Elrohir's shoulder, then pulling aside his thick mane to suck at his nape even as he continued to ready him for breaching. "You are truly a prize, Elrohir." His lips moved to the skin behind Elrohir's ear. "And one I would not gladly share."

It was risky to stake a claim when there was no surety yet of just when that claim could be sealed. But Legolas believed Elrohir insightful enough to understand that no promise was being demanded of him; only a hope that he would keep his heart if not his body for the archer alone.

Elrohir drew a shaky breath before he turned his head and, looking over his shoulder at Legolas, softly said, "Nor would I. You are worth waiting for, Legolas."

Legolas groaned inwardly. Elbereth, his forbearance was at an end! He withdrew his hand. And heard the hitch in Elrohir's breathing. The young Elf's shoulders tensed and his buttocks flexed in anxious expectation of invasion.

Legolas smoothed his hand down Elrohir's back. "We need not do this," he gallantly offered.

Elrohir looked at him entreatingly. "Nay, I want this," he insisted. "Just… be gentle."

Legolas regarded him thoughtfully. "Turn over," he suggested. "I think it will be better if you can see me."

The Elf-knight stared at him then nodded. He shifted onto his back then tried to relax when Legolas urged his legs up and around his waist. He caught a glimpse of Legolas smearing his shaft with his seed and blushed at the sight. Then Legolas positioned himself and he felt the nudge of hard flesh, seeking entrance. He closed his eyes, shuddering a little as the nudge grew more insistent. He could not quite stifle a wince of discomfort when he felt the first press into him and he blindly reached up to grip the archer's arms.

"Let me in, _pen vuil_"—dear one—he heard Legolas murmur. Hands soothingly stroked his hips and thighs.

Elrohir willed his muscles to relax enough to permit Legolas's entry into his body. Though the slow inward slide burned, he did not fight the intrusion, adjusting his hips and legs instead to better ease the heady penetration.

And heady it was indeed for, despite the discomfort, the idea that it was Legolas inside him, that he had actually, finally attained what he had desired for so very long, superceded all other thought. And that was enough to spark frissons of pleasure within him. He caught his breath when he felt Legolas's groin flush against his buttocks, evidence that the archer was completely seated within.

He opened his eyes to see Legolas watching him intently. Elrohir blew out the breath he had not realized he was holding.

"I am well," he managed.

Legolas smiled, a funny, somewhat crooked smile that made him all the more endearing.

"Let us see if we can do better than well," he murmured.

He withdrew a bit, shifting his angle minutely as he pushed back in. Repeated the movement twice more, each controlled lunge coaxing tight flesh to loosen up further. Elrohir gave a strangled gasp as pleasure erupted in his groin. The same pleasure he'd known when Legolas earlier prepared him only… only this one was more intense, filled as he was with thick, hard flesh.

"Better?" Legolas softly queried, brushing tendrils of hair from Elrohir's forehead.

Elrohir swallowed, then let out a shuddery breath. "Much better," he unsteadily replied.

Legolas leaned down to kiss him, pushing into him as he did. Before long, Elrohir was bearing down on every incursion, gasping as unfamiliar sensations coursed through him. It was the signal for Legolas to deepen his thrusts, every plunge a catalyst for rapture for his young lover. He reached around Elrohir and began to stroke him in time with his quickening movements. Elrohir's eyes flew open and widened as another new sensation joined the already turbulent welter that gripped him.

"Wait, I cannot— Legolas… too much—!"

The incoherent spill of words coupled with Elrohir's instinctual lifting of his hips to enclose the flesh that speared him and the flush that stained his fair skin from cheeks to shoulders to chest proved as compelling as any practiced act of seduction. Legolas knew himself mastered by his need for the first time in more years than he could remember.

He managed to hold back just a while longer. Enough to ensure Elrohir finished first. But the moment he heard Elrohir's smothered moans and saw his comely face tighten in the throes of completion, he let go.

A few more thrusts and he climaxed hard and strong, the contracting grip of satiny flesh around him heightening the bliss. His body trembling from the most intense release in his memory, Legolas leaned low to seal his mouth to Elrohir's. Only with great reluctance did he pull out, missing Elrohir's heat as soon as he left it.

They lay afterward in a pleasant tangle of limbs, Elrohir enfolded in Legolas's arms, his dark head tucked into the crook of the archer's neck.

"Definitely worth waiting for," he whispered with a happy sigh.

Legolas chuckled. "The night is still young and so are you. Surely you are up for more," he fondly teased.

Elrohir lifted his head and looked at him with such enthusiasm Legolas was hard pressed to keep his laughter at bay.

"I am, but I was not certain you were," Elrohir cheekily replied. "You do have a few thousand years on me after all."

Legolas feigned indignation. "There are some things that vastly improve with age, _pen neth_"—young one—he pointed out. He pressed Elrohir back against the sheets, sliding between the Elf-knight's legs in the same motion with practiced ease. "Elves have eternity in which to perfect their skills."

IF Elrohir had some form of rebuttal in mind, he soon found himself unable to think clearly enough to voice it. Not when his woodland prince kept him too occupied, heart, body and mind, to string together enough words to form a sensible sentence, let alone eloquent speech.

_To be continued..._


	20. Affection

**Title:** Affection  
**Characters:** Legolas/Elrohir, Elladan  
**Prompt:** 023. Lovers  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** There is so much more to loving than mere bodily union.

Elrohir gingerly sat down on the bench, wincing slightly as his tender bottom met unyielding wood. He heard a soft snicker from across the table and looked up with a faint scowl at his twin. Elladan pursed his lips in a bid to stifle more laughter but his eyes said otherwise.

"Should I fetch you a pillow?" the older twin brightly inquired.

That earned him a considerable glower when the comment inspired further curiosity about Elrohir's circumstances. Their parents and grandparents' wan smiles did not escape Elrohir's notice, while the occupants of the neighboring tables regarded him with varying degrees of furtiveness, a few not quite able to conceal their amusement. The Arnorian crown prince was numbered among these, much to Elrohir's annoyance.

"How very considerate of you, brother mine," he testily muttered.

The Elf-knight did his best to ignore the ache in his backside, fighting the urge to squirm and find a more comfortable position. He began to question the wisdom of presenting himself in public so soon after a night such as he had just experienced.

A hand dropped on his shoulder and he glanced up to meet Legolas's clear gaze. A small smile curved the prince's lips. Elrohir began to smile back until he saw what Legolas held in his other hand. His cheeks flamed when Legolas signed to him to stand up.

His eyes never leaving Elrohir, Legolas said, "There is no need, Elladan." He slid a soft cushion onto the bench and motioned to Elrohir to reseat himself while he settled beside him.

"Better?" he softly asked, placing his hand briefly on Elrohir's lower back.

Elrohir nodded, half closing his eyes when Legolas ran his knuckles down one bright red cheek.

"Good," Legolas murmured. "Forgive me, I should have restrained myself last night."

Elrohir momentarily forgot his embarrassment at the hint of self-reproach in Legolas's voice. "Nay, I wanted it as much as you did," he blurted out. "There was no call for restraint at all."

He caught his breath in horror when he realized he had spoken during a sudden lull in the general breakfast chatter, and thus virtually divulged to one and all the extent of his night's indulgence with the woodland prince. He dropped his gaze and kept it glued to the tabletop, unwilling to meet anyone's eyes, and mortified to the core at drawing even more attention to the very thing he had taken such pains to downplay the previous night.

Elrohir felt his twin sympathetically nudge his leg with his foot, but he refused to look up. Until Legolas curled an arm around his shoulders and drew him closer. Only then did he dare lift his eyes to glance at the prince.

He started when Legolas pressed a gentle kiss to his brow, the gesture not only marking him as the archer's, but also defining the nature of their nascent liaison. Quite a risk for Legolas to take, Elrohir realized, should word of it get back to his people. To charm one's way into a would be conquest's bed was only to be expected. To be possessive of a hard won prize was not unusual either. But to behave affectionately toward a mere trophy indicated some emotional attachment and that was what Legolas had concealed from his folk all these years to keep dissent at bay.

His discomfort forgotten and replaced by concern for Legolas instead, Elrohir murmured, "Your intent could be … misconstrued."

The prince apparently discerned the change and treated him to a slow smile that all but dazzled the breath from the younger twin's breast.

"It was a great honor, Elrohir," Legolas distinctly said, his words carrying to the others at the table. "One I will treasure all my days." He dropped his voice to a near whisper only Elrohir could hear. "And hope will ever be mine alone."

The Elf-knight looked at him wonderingly. "Are you saying…?" he began. At the gleam in Legolas's eyes, Elrohir broke into a delighted smile. "'Tis my hope, too."

"Even through a long wait?" Legolas softly asked.

Elrohir nodded. "I meant it when I said you are worth waiting for," he murmured.

He was reminded that they were not alone when Elladan nudged him once more under the table, but in less gentle fashion than he had earlier. A moment later, Elrond and Celeborn cleared their throats almost simultaneously, recalling Legolas's attention as well to their present surroundings.

Legolas apologetically dipped his head to both lords and their ladies, but neither couple was so obtuse as to believe him repentant in the least. Not when he kept his arm firmly around Elrohir then looked about at the nearby tables, silently shaming their occupants into casting their stares elsewhere. His gaze seemed particularly flinty when it alighted on Eldacar. The Man returned him a faint smile and a nod of acknowledgment ere deflecting his fellows' interest away from the younger twin.

His protectiveness was not lost on Elrohir. When Legolas looked at him again, the Elf-knight was grinning at him with utmost fondness.

"Thank you," he said.

Legolas shook his head. "I will not have my lover ill at ease in his own home," he replied.

Elrohir's eyes widened and his eyebrows rose a fraction. After a moment, his mouth spread into a sweet smile, nigh tempting Legolas into further indiscretion.

"How do I show mine how much I appreciate his concern for me?" Elrohir inquired.

Legolas chuckled. "Need you ask?

The Elf-knight blushed slightly. "Tonight then?" he said under his breath.

"And every night of my stay here," Legolas added.

Elrohir snorted. "Do you mean to render me incapable of sitting for the duration of your visit?" he tartly inquired.

Legolas softly laughed. "Not at all. I just want you in my bed whether we couple or not. Not to mention awaken each morn with you by my side. Or is that too much to ask of you?"

The Elf-knight shook his head and slipped a hand trustingly into the archer's grip.

"Indeed, 'tis not nearly enough."

_To be continued..._


	21. Stimulus

**Title:** Stimulus  
**Characters:** Elladan, Legolas/Elrohir  
**Prompt:** 037. Sound  
**Rating:** M  
**Summary:** Elladan discovers that eavesdropping can be both a pleasure and a pain.

Silently cursing, Elladan attempted the impossible – to block out the sounds coming from his brother's bed while he lay curled up under it with nothing to cover his ears but his hands. And they were not doing a very good job of muffling Elrohir's inarticulate whimpers or Legolas's salacious whispers.

Sweet Eru! Whatever had possessed him to hide beneath his twin's bed? He should have realized as soon as he heard Legolas's husky chuckle that the archer would stay the night. He should have seated himself, waited for them to pull apart and calmly explained his presence to them with as much dignity as he could muster with deeply flushed cheeks, his breech-laces undone and his shirt hem stained where he had wiped his hand.

Another imprecation nearly escaped him. What had gotten into his head to pleasure himself in a bed other than his own? Damn his sordid imagination! And all because of a glimpse of a certain Elf's bared torso as he made his way back to his room, sodden shirt in hand. The sight had overcome Elladan so precipitately that he ducked into the nearest bedchamber all a-tremble. Unfortunately, Elrohir's room had been the closest.

Elladan stifled a groan when he heard Elrohir's guttural pleas. What in Arda was Legolas doing to reduce his proud brother to such mindless surrender? Not that he should be wondering at all, he reminded himself. Indeed, he should be contemplating escape rather than getting aroused all over again by what was happening above him.

That was what had landed him in this predicament in the first place. If he had allowed that moment of nigh unbearable lust to pass and returned to his own room to take care of the consequences of it, he would not now be cowering in a horrible state halfway between apprehension of discovery and steadily waxing arousal. But, no, he'd let his imagination run away with him, seeing in his mind's eye far more than what had been revealed to him in the corridor. One thing had led to another and before he knew it, he'd undone his breeches and desperately tended to the embarrassing bulge that had taken up residence within, completely forgetting that he was not in his own quarters.

Hardly had he spilled himself when he heard the door begin to snick open and hushed laughter drift through the widening crack. He did not stop to think. Even less did he consider his options when Elrohir's mirth was cut off quite suddenly by the seal of Legolas's lips against his. That brief pause before their entry into the chamber should have galvanized him into yanking his shirt down over his breeches and conjuring some explanation for his presence and the state he was in. Instead, he had panicked.

It was one thing to exchange bawdy banter with Elrohir when they were alone. Altogether another thing when it was apparent his brother was about to indulge in far more than mere talk with the woodland prince. And so he took the only course of action that occurred to him. He dove under the bed. And regretted it ever since.

Bad enough to listen to the rustle of clothing being stripped off and thrown carelessly on the floor right in front of him or the faint creak of the bed as two bodies toppled onto it and shifted about tellingly. But listening to the vocal expressions of their love play proved a trial he had never imagined undergoing. A trial brought to a spectacular climax by his brother's hoarse intonation of the archer's name followed by the most peculiar of sounds.

Elladan closed his eyes and futilely covered his ears with his hands when he heard the soft, rhythmic slap of flesh against flesh. 'Elbereth preserve me,' he nearly groaned aloud. His silent entreaty went unheard as evidenced by the hardening of certain parts down yonder and he only barely managed to suppress a sacrilegious opinion of the supposed efficacy of prayer.

Soon the nigh painful tension in his groin forced him to seek relief. He stroked himself to the strains of sharp, frantic gasps and low, lingering moans, all but stuffing his fist into his mouth to keep from uttering so much as a squeak.

Their completions ensured his, Elrohir's strangled sobs and Legolas's feral groans sending him over the precipice into rapture. Only by clenching his teeth on the cuff of his sleeve was he able to stifle his own cry of ecstasy. Afterward, he could only weakly lie there, as much enervated by the attempts to remain silent as by his intense spending.

He heard snatches of pillow talk. Gentle raillery, dulcet laughter, a subtle avowal of love. This last rendered him agape with awe, uttered as it had been not by Elrohir but by Legolas. Elladan forced down the sudden lump in his throat.

Their conversation slowly wound down, much to Elladan's relief. Thank the Powers they had spent the better part of the day outdoors, engaged in strenuous activity. Otherwise, Elladan might well have been forced to bide the whole night in uncomfortable concealment. There was no reason to disbelieve his brother's claim regarding Legolas's lusty appetite for the pleasures to be found in Elrohir's bed.

Elladan waited until he heard the steady breathing of slumber ere cautiously crawling out. He winced as he rose to his feet, his long limbs protesting their lengthy spell squeezed into cramped accommodations. But he kept his eyes averted lest he see the bed's occupants displayed in all their post-coital glory. He stealthily made his way to the door.

"Did you enjoy yourself?"

The older twin froze. He warily peered over his shoulder and saw that Legolas had raised himself on one arm to better see him. He was relieved to note that the blanket had been adequately drawn up, but his relief was short-lived when he espied the questioning gleam in the archer's eyes.

"Let me explain," Elladan stammered, turning around. "I did not mean to—"

He halted, his breath catching as Elrohir stirred, a frown marring his brow. Legolas stroked his lover's flank soothingly until he settled anew in the prince's cradling arms. He looked up at Elladan once more.

"I am sure you had good reason to conceal yourself as you did," he murmured. "You may tell me come morning if you wish." He smiled faintly when Elladan's anxious gaze dropped to his brother. "He will not learn of it from me," he assured him.

Elladan only realized he had been holding his breath when he released it. He hastily blurted his thanks to the Wood-elf, then turned on his heel and dashed out.

"Legolas?"

The archer looked down into drowsy grey eyes.

"I thought I heard Elladan," Elrohir sleepily mumbled.

"And I imagine Elladan heard too much for his comfort," Legolas softly replied, his voice edged with mirth. With that, he proceeded to kiss Elrohir's languor and puzzlement away.

_To be continued..._


	22. Disabused

**Title:** Disabused  
**Characters:** Legolas/Elrohir  
**Prompt:** 077. What?  
**Rating:** M  
**Summary:** As Legolas's departure draws near, one of Elrohir's assumptions comes to the fore.

Elrohir struggled to keep from alerting all the residents of the Last Homely House to his present circumstances: down on his elbows and knees, flushed face pressed into a Wood-elf scented pillow and said Wood-elf's shaft plowing deep into him from behind, each inward slide reminding him that he belonged to one Legolas Thranduilion, Elven prince of Greenwood the Great.

He had known from their first meeting whose claim to his innocence he would recognize and accept. That Legolas would also lay claim to his heart had been no more than a hope on his part. But now Elrohir's hope had become reality. A reality that was impressed on him each and every night and many a spare period of leisure in between. Legolas was ensuring that Elrohir would remember him most vividly not only in thought but also in body and heart well after the archer had returned to his forest realm.

Knowing hands mapped his torso, skimming over the taut muscles of his belly and snaking down to stroke the tops and sides of his straining thighs before one hand began to fondle him gently, teasingly. Soft lips and a wicked tongue roamed his back from his nape and the side of his neck down to the broad expanse of smooth skin between his shoulders. And all the while, hot, hard flesh relentlessly cleaved him and filled him to the hilt.

Elrohir let out a shuddery moan and clutched the pillow. He would definitely need it to smother his reaction by the time Legolas was done with him.

"Elrohir, look at me."

The husky command compelled him to turn his head and peer over his shoulder at his lover. He had a glimpse of sparkling blue eyes and a heart-stopping smile before Legolas suddenly leaned forward and captured him in a kiss. He gasped against the archer's lips whereupon he found his mouth invaded by a questing tongue. The stroking quickened, the inward thrusts roughened. A despairing groan escaped him as he felt the mounting pleasure sharply evolve into imminent completion. It was simply too much.

Shaking helplessly, he spent himself, his sobbing cries muffled against the prince's lips. Legolas nigh slammed into him ere he stiffened against his back, groaning harshly as he did. Elrohir closed his eyes when he felt his lover's release flow into him. Legolas's seed was as copious in quantity as he was generous in size.

Once they had caught their breaths, Legolas gently rolled them on their sides. But he did not release Elrohir nor did he withdraw from him. The Elf-knight adjusted his hips until he could lie comfortably with the archer still lodged inside him. He was used to this by now. It was no longer a shock to him to awaken in the morning still joined to Legolas after a night's worth of couplings.

The Wood-elf was astonishingly potent. Small wonder he had been a sought after lover back in Eryn Galen.

_Had been? Or still was?_

Legolas had indicated he would prefer that Elrohir reserved himself for him alone. But Elrohir had not dared ask the same of Legolas and certainly had not expected him to remain chaste during the years ere his coming of age, the archer's profession of abstinence notwithstanding. Elrohir sighed.

It was not his right to feel jealous of any lovers Legolas may have entertained during those interim years. Or for that matter, in the years to come when they were separated. Legolas had not promised to be his exclusively after all.

"What has put that frown on your face?" Legolas murmured. "Not my bed manners I hope."

Elrohir chuckled. "Far from it," he assured the prince. "I do not need another lover to know you are probably without peer in the bedroom."

Legolas snorted. "How can you assume that if you have none to compare me to?"

"Fishing for compliments?" Elrohir teased. "But, nay, I need look no further than your own folk for confirmation of your prowess. Your reputation precedes you and I heard much last we visited Eryn Galen. But even did I not, your ability to leave me quite speechless should be enough proof of your skill, don't you think?"

He was rewarded by a soft guffaw and an affectionate nuzzle against the side of his throat. A hand slid down to his abdomen, gently caressing the firm flesh. Elrohir started to relax.

"So, what was bothering you then?"

Elrohir started. He glanced back at Legolas and met a quizzical gaze. And a determined one.

"Surely you can confide your worries in me," Legolas coaxed. "You always have."

The Elf-knight hesitated then resigned himself to whatever reaction his admission would elicit. He looked away and drew a calming breath.

"I was only jealous," he said in a low voice. "And mind you, I know it is foolish of me and that I have no right to feel thusly. And I know that it is ridiculous of me to wish that you had cloistered yourself all these years. But that still does not lessen the sting of - of sharing you with others."

He fell silent and waited for the archer's response. When none seemed forthcoming, he wondered if he had said too much. Fearing to look back lest he glimpsed displeasure, he dared to reach for the hand on his belly and squeeze it.

"Forget what I said," he softly pleaded. "'Twas just a child's foolish fancy."

He felt Legolas tense against his back. The Wood-elf suddenly pulled his hand out of his grip. Elrohir caught his breath. Had he truly offended the prince? An instant later, he gasped when Legolas all but shoved himself all the way in while grasping him by the hip to pull him back tight against his body.

"Child?" Legolas murmured roughly against his ear. "'Tis hardly a child I now hold in my arms."

"Legolas—"

"I told you I would abstain," Legolas pointed out, the mildness of his tone at variance with the faint menace underlying it. "Think you I would go back on my own promise and share myself so easily? And I had set my sights on the greatest prize of all. Why would I waste my time on anything of less worth? Fie on you to doubt my word, Elf-knight!"

Elrohir closed his eyes, the verbal onslaught coupled with the sensual assault nearly bereaving him of his wits anew.

"The greatest prize?" he managed to say. "Was I worth the years of denying your body's needs, Legolas?" he dared to demand. "_Am I?_"

Legolas laughed, a low throaty sound that made mincemeat of what remained of Elrohir's resolve. "I wondered what had become of the Elf whose pluck and forthrightness enthralled me from the start," he remarked. "You may be the younger and less experienced but, when we come together as lovers, you are my equal, Elrohir. Do not be afraid to tell me if I have displeased you or if you desire something of me." He slipped a hand down to cup the Elf-knight possessively. "As for your question – you are _more_ than worthy. Never doubt that!"

He abruptly pulled out of the younger Elf only to roll him onto his back, ignoring his startled bewilderment. With little preamble, he mounted Elrohir once more, hardly giving him the chance to catch his breath afore he resumed pounding into him. The madcap pace he set was nothing like anything he had treated Elrohir to since the start of their affair and it swiftly sent them spiralling into a climax as shattering as the previous one.

Elrohir weakly crawled into Legolas's arms afterward and laid his head on the archer's breast. Elbereth! If this was Legolas's manner of punishing a wayward lover, the temptation to transgress would never be far away.

His backside would be truly sore come morning. He would once more have to relegate his bottom to cushioned seats the following day. And he would need to brace himself for another round of raillery from Elladan. But no matter. His heart was full to bursting and his thoughts were awash with the wonder and joy of an unexpected confirmation of fidelity. He breathed in the singular scent of his Wood-elven lover and sighed, a contented smile curving his lips.

"Is there anything else on your mind?" Legolas idly inquired, running his fingers through Elrohir's tousled hair.

Elrohir looked at him and grinned. "Aside from wondering if you will have me again this eve?" he quipped.

Legolas returned his gaze thoughtfully. "Yes," he said.

Elrohir's grin faded to a perplexed frown. "Yes, you think I have something else on my mind?" he ascertained.

The archer shook his head and pulled him up until they were face to face.

"Yes, I will have you again this eve."

_To be continued..._


	23. Setback

**Title:** Setback  
**Characters:** Elladan and Elrohir  
**Prompt:** 042. Triangle  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** How does one distinguish between what is and what seems to be?

Elladan shook his head as he exited his brother's room and headed down the corridor for the Hall of Fire. It was clear from the rapt expression on Elrohir's face that he would be utterly absorbed in Legolas's latest letter for the next hour or so. More if the archer's penchant for bawdy humor was reflected in his missive. Elrohir would likely have to calm certain body parts if he wished to eventually sleep in comfort. By then, the night would be old.

He considered his twin's situation. Elrohir was now privy to the meanings behind even the subtlest of innuendos, so well had Legolas taught him his bed manners. Nuances that could go over an innocent's head, as they sometimes did with Elladan, were no longer less than crystal clear to Elrohir. He could understand even the most obscure sexual references and knowledgeably participate in the salty banter of the vale's seasoned warriors.

It did rankle to admit on occasion that he, the elder of Elrond's sons, was the less conversant and experienced in the pleasures of the flesh. But that alone would still not be enough to compel him to set aside his reservations and engage in said pleasures. Nay, what tempted him was Elrohir's state of being since he and Legolas became lovers. His joy and contentment as well as leashed passion resounded through their fraternal link and oft left Elladan aching for the same felicity.

If anything could finally overcome his fears and pride, it was that yearning for a love he could call all his own. Once his heart was given and taken, Elladan could not imagine denying his chosen one his body or failing to enjoy coupling with him even if it entailed yielding himself in pleasure.

He sighed. Nothing would come of his longing if he did not do something. The first move would have to come from him even if it was not he who did the actual courting. His station as Elrond's heir virtually demanded that of him and any prospective suitor.

Taking a deep breath, he turned around and headed back whence he came, turning left at the fork in the corridor instead of right. Making for the quarters of Elrond's trusted household members. It was late enough that most of them would have retired for the night, but not so late that they would already be asleep.

An Elf was strolling down the passage ahead of him, eyes cast down as if he was deep in thought. Elladan paused and waited for him to reach his door. But just as the latter came to it, the door swung open.

"Erestor, what are you doing here?"

"Wondering if you would ever arrive," the dark-haired counsellor wryly commented. "Really, you can be slower than molasses in the dead of winter."

Ere the other could respond, Erestor chuckled and, taking him by the hand, pulled him into the room, pressing a kiss to his lips as he did.

The color drained from Elladan's face as he watched the door close, his mind awash with dismay and burgeoning anguish. Why had he not noticed? And since when had they…?

He turned on his heel and fled back to the family wing. Not surprisingly, he hurried to his brother's room.

Elrohir looked up in surprise when he barged in, eyes welling with unshed tears and lips trembling despite his attempt to still them by biting down on them. In a flash, Elrohir was on his feet and hurrying to his twin's side.

"Elladan! What is wrong, brother?" he exclaimed, arms solicitously going around his distraught twin.

"Too late," Elladan shakily said. "I am too late."

Elrohir blinked. "What do you mean?" he demanded, leading Elladan to the bed and making him sit down. "Too late for what?"

"I-I saw Erestor with… They were—are…" Elladan stuttered. "Ah, Elrohir, he has taken a lover!" he suddenly wailed. "He did not wait for me!"

The Elf-knight stared at him. "Impossible," he whispered.

"I saw what I saw," Elladan insisted. "That was no chaste kiss they shared."

Elrohir frowned. "Tell me all," he instructed. "And do start from the beginning."

Forcing himself to calm down, Elladan recounted what he had seen to his brother. When he was finished, he looked at Elrohir imploringly, hurt gleaming in his grey eyes. The younger twin recalled Legolas's observation in Greenwood all those many years ago.

"Nay," Elrohir slowly said, shaking his head. "That is impossible. You must be mistaken. You _are_ mistaken."

Elladan snorted. "How did you come to that conclusion?"

"Legolas saw his desire long ago," Elrohir explained. "And I have since observed it as well. He wants you, Elladan. I do not believe he has turned his eyes elsewhere now of all times!"

Elladan regarded him skeptically. "Then explain what I saw," he challenged.

Elrohir hesitated then blew out his breath and cautiously said, "This could be no more than a diversion while he bides his time. After all, you have chosen to delay bedding anyone for Elbereth only knows how long." He sighed when Elladan winced and averted his gaze. "It was hard enough for us to await our majority," he went on as gently as he could. "What more for one who likely began his wait long before either of us even understood the meaning of desire?"

The older twin swallowed hard then nodded in faintest hope. "Perhaps you are right." He closed his eyes, forcing back his tears, while Elrohir soothingly rubbed his back.

"Why were you there in the first place?" Elrohir curiously asked.

Elladan flushed. "I was going to tell him that— that I am perfectly amenable to, um, spending more time in his company."

Elrohir stopped his rubbing and gaped at him disbelievingly. "That sounds more like a diplomatic proposal than a romantic proposition," he remarked at length. "You will have to work on your choice of words if you wish to convince him that his courtship is welcome. Valar, better if you simply ask him to bugger you into the mattress!"

Elladan glared at him. "Mind your tongue, imp," he tartly grumbled.

"Oh, I always do," Elrohir cheekily retorted. "Legolas says I can do more things with my tongue than some Elves can do with their—"

"Elrohir!"

The Elf-knight grinned at the sight of crimson cheeks, glad to have diverted his brother from his misery even if only for the moment. After a few heartbeats, Elladan apparently agreed for he wanly smiled.

"Thank you," he weakly offered.

Elrohir threw a comradely arm across his shoulders. "'Tis time you made it clear to him that you are his for the taking," he quipped. "And I mean in no uncertain terms, brother. No more of this dancing around the issue and moping like a feckless, lovesick Elfling."

"So says he who moped like a feckless, lovesick Elfling not too long ago," Elladan teased.

"'Twas little more than a phase," Elrohir airily dismissed. "And one I grew out of quite quickly."

This last was intoned in a way that dared his brother to disagree with him. Elladan softly chuckled.

"You are right, Elrohir. 'Tis time _I_ stake my claim."

_To be continued_...


	24. Reprisal

**Title:** Reprisal  
**Characters:** Elladan, Erestor, Glorfindel  
**Prompt:** 033. Too Much  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** One jealous turn deserves another.  
**Author's Note:** If anyone recalls the ficlet, _Priceless_, consider a certain event in that piece a foreshadowing of this story arc. I simply could not resist.

The problem with having too many spare hours on one's hands and no brother around to while away said hours with was that one got to thinking over much and had no one to confide in when the results of that thinking became intolerable. Elladan had always been the better of the twins at maintaining his composure even in the face of adversity. But that was largely due to being able to confide in Elrohir, a practice that helped relieve him of the excess tensions and anxieties that might otherwise drive him to lose his temper or manners or both.

But a scant two days after that inopportune sighting of Elladan's supposed suitor apparently keeping an assignation, Elrohir was sent on a scouting expedition with one of Glorfindel's lieutenants. It was a routine mission and of minimal danger at most.

Elrond would never permit either of his sons to participate in anything life-threatening just yet. But train them to fulfill their future roles in the valley realm he would and did and that entailed the occasional foray outside the protected bounds of Imladris. This was especially true for Elrohir who would some day be his brother's chief advisor and one of the valley's principal defenders.

Unfortunately for Elladan, two days did not provide enough time to empty himself of all his fears and frustrations. Nor had Elrohir had the chance to calm his twin's frazzled nerves or help him decide the best way to approach the source of his present discomposure. Consequently, Elladan spent more time than was healthy dwelling on what threatened to be his first case of heartbreak and dreaming up every possible way to counter such an event.

That he did not resort to the most direct method of getting what he wanted betrayed his inexperience, as well as the mixture of confusion, agitation and lingering fearfulness that had taken hold of him. In years to come, he would blushingly trot out these reasons to explain (or excuse) his behaviour one particular night in the Hall of Fire.

When he entered the hall, he saw that Elrond and Celebrîan had seated themselves in a secluded corner with Glorfindel and a few advisors and healers in attendance. Erestor, on the other hand, had chosen to sit alone in one of the couches on the opposite side of the chamber. The counsellor apparently intended to shed the day's worries through solitary enjoyment of music and song.

Elladan would never really know what impulse drove him then. He would only later recall that he had never been so frightened or determined in all his life. With an uncharacteristic nigh rebellious glance in his parents' direction, he joined Erestor on the couch.

But first, he snatched a cup of wine from a passing retainer's tray, tossed back the contents, then gestured for another cup, which he emptied by the time he sat down beside Erestor. The counsellor looked at him questioningly when he signalled the wine steward for more. Elladan managed a cocky grin.

"Why so surprised, Erestor?" he assayed. "'Tis not as if I have never had wine before."

"But neither has it been your wont to down it like water. Not since you and Elrohir made the mistake of mixing copious ale and Dorwinion wine all those years ago."

Elladan smiled as his cup was refilled. "Surely an occasional binge is permissible. Not that I intend to do so tonight," he hastily added when Erestor looked at him reprovingly. "I merely wish to loosen up a bit and pass the evening in convivial company."

Erestor regarded him thoughtfully. "You miss Elrohir," he said with a small smile.

"There is that. But we do have to learn how to manage without each other. We are not joined at the hip after all, contrary to popular belief." Elladan hesitated then boldly continued. "Indeed, there are some things we will each have to undertake on our own. Elrohir has already begun and he oft says I should as well."

Erestor did not reply at once, but looked across the room at Elrond and Celebriân who were in turn surreptitiously observing their son. Elladan, however, paid their attention no mind, whether out of obliviousness or defiance, even the astute counsellor could not say for certain.

He did try to temper Elladan's intake in the course of their conversation. Conversation the younger Elf seemed intent on deliberately peppering with innuendo in a voice he did not always trouble to keep low and discreet. The latter was obviously a direct result of the greater than usual quantity of wine he had imbibed. He was by no means inebriated, but he had drunk enough to lower his natural reserve.

Elladan eventually marked that the retainers were pretending not to notice his gestures to pour him more wine. Annoyed with what he suspected to be parental interference, he rose to do it himself despite Erestor's suggestion that he practice some restraint. The counsellor watched him corner the wine steward and demand that he refill his cup. Erestor pursed his lips when he saw Glorfindel leave Elrond's side to intercept Elladan as the young Elf headed back.

He did not blatantly block Elladan's way, but rather crossed in front of him, then half turned as if he had only just noticed him and thought to speak with him, staying him with a light tap on his arm. Not that anyone watching would not guess what he had to say. But Glorfindel was not one to humiliate others in public if he could help it.

"I think you are drinking more than is wise," the captain murmured. "Your parents are a little concerned."

"And did they send you to keep an eye on me?" Elladan retorted. "I am no child whose virtue needs guarding, nor are you a nursemaid whose only function is to keep errant Elflings from stumbling."

Glorfindel's eyebrows rose at the acerbic reply. "That you are a grown Elf is a foregone conclusion, but whether your virtue needs no guarding is still debatable," he dryly commented. He paused briefly to allow Elladan's currently less than quick wits to process the sentence. "Rest assured your parents have naught to do with my intervention; only my sympathy for them that they should have to witness their eldest and heir promising to make a fool of himself in front of everyone."

Elladan bristled. "I am not anywhere near intoxicated, Glorfindel, if that is what you are implying."

"But you are obviously looking for courage in the bottom of a wine cup."

"And if I am? I need not be drunk in order to be emboldened enough to seek my desire."

Forehead creasing in reproof, Glorfindel said, "Take heed, _hîr neth_"—young lord—"lest you test someone past the point of prudence ere you are ready for it."

"Is anyone ever truly ready?" Elladan challenged. "And at least, if this should result in some action being taken, then there will be something for me to consider being ready for!"

Glorfindel rolled his eyes. "Do not say I did not warn you," he reminded Elladan before walking away.

Elladan glared at his back until he rejoined Elrond and Celebrían. He realized then that his mother was watching him with concern and he flushed with embarrassment at being caught regarding anyone with incivility. Particularly one as kind and well loved as Imladris's captain. Chagrined, he averted his gaze and hastened back to Erestor.

The counsellor looked surprised, his dark eyes darting toward Elrond and company. Elladan wondered if Erestor had thought he would back off after having been chided by Glorfindel. For there could be no other conclusion one could make about the captain's short but somber chat with him.

But Erestor's smile returned as soon as Elladan sat beside him once more. He did look pointedly at the younger Elf's once more full cup however.

"That is the last one, I hope," he commented. "There is a thin line between being pleasantly relaxed and shamelessly soused."

Elladan chuckled. "This will be the last, I promise. Besides, I would prove terrible company if I collapsed insensible onto your lap from a surfeit of drink."

He dropped a hand on the counsellor's knee. Erestor shook his head and a hint of warning tinged his voice though his smile did not vanish. "I should hope not," he said. "But I think you are already on the verge of it. Else you would realize that a public gathering is not the best place to tryst with anyone."

Erestor's words were akin to being doused with a bucket's worth of ice water. Reflexively, Elladan looked around and noticed for the first time the furtive _and_ interested scrutiny of those nearby. His cheeks flared with color and heat.

"Elbereth!" he said under his breath. He glanced at Erestor and saw that the counsellor was looking almost apologetically in his parents' direction. Elladan's mortification deepened and he lowered his eyes for several minutes as he fought to calm his suddenly clamoring nerves. "I am so sorry, Erestor," he whispered at last. "I never meant to cause you offence."

"'Twas not I you offended," Erestor softly replied.

Elladan groaned. "I think I had better retire to my quarters," he muttered, rising to his feet.

"Aye, that would be best," Erestor agreed, his attention returning to Elladan. "You do need more privacy for what you have in mind, _pen neth_"—young one—he added with a faint smirk.

Elladan's eyes widened. He stammered out a goodnight and just barely managed not to bolt from the hall. With every unsteady step, his mind cleared somewhat of its drink-induced fuzziness. And with that returned his strong sense of decorum.

He became progressively flustered as he remembered his outrageous behavior even as he wondered if Erestor would respond to his flirtation. Eru preserve him if the counsellor did, he thought, sobriety firmly taking root once more. There would be the devil to pay if things got out of control and no one to blame but Elladan himself.

Hardly had he entered his chamber and closed the door behind him when he was brusquely thrust against it and pinned to it by a body of greater height, breadth and strength than his. Before he could so much as squawk in protest, he was silenced by a possessive, ravaging kiss. His coherence reduced to near nonexistence, he was half thrilled and half alarmed to hear the bolt sliding into place behind him.

When he was sufficiently subdued, his visitor drew back and he found himself gazing into smoldering ocean-hued eyes.

"I warned you not to test me overmuch_,_" Glorfindel growled. "Now you must pay the consequences."

_To be continued..._


	25. Reckoning

**Title:** Reckoning  
**Characters:** Glorfindel/Elladan  
**Prompt:** 083: And  
**Rating:** M  
**Summary:** Glorfindel takes matters into his own hands and makes Elladan's choice for him.

Elladan cried out as he was relentlessly speared and filled, shocked by the sheer girth and length of the flesh he had often thought of sheathing. It was one thing to imagine the pains and pleasures of bodily intimacy; very much another to actually spread one's self beneath an Elf of Glorfindel's magnificence and yield to his passion. He clutched at Glorfindel's arms, quite unable to take a deep breath, his body rocking with every lunge of the captain's hips against him.

Crimson bruises marked his skin from throat to groin to straining thighs. His back bore similar signs of ravishment all the way to his bottom, which Glorfindel had readied for his taking with all the care due an innocent in bed and all the haste expected of one whose patience was at an end. Elladan could not decide which had unmanned him more swiftly: the plunge of a questing tongue tasting deeply of him or long slick fingers stroking and stretching him from within. What had alarmed yet excited him was the knowledge that he was being prepared to take another Elf into his body. And an Elf of spectacular endowment at that.

Gone, however, was his previous resistance to it. Glorfindel had not given him a chance to think clearly once he sealed their mouths together in Elladan's first kiss. Indeed, Elladan had no clear memory of their progress from door to bed.

All he recalled were motion and sensation. Of being laid down and hands skillfully stripping him, scalding kisses to mouth and cheeks and neck distracting him so effectively, he had not thought to protest, much less struggle against the removal of his clothing. Once Glorfindel set his lips and teeth to work on the flesh he bared, any lingering rational thought fled until all that remained was a blur of pleasure limned with moments of fright that perversely enough only heightened his enjoyment of whatever Glorfindel did to him.

It was an object lesson in the dangers of teasing an Elf who had died while vanquishing a demon, walked the Halls of Mandos until he was deemed fit to be reborn, then returned to the madcap way of life in the Hither Lands and survived it a second time. Elladan wondered whether he could withstand mating with such a one as Rivendell's mercurial captain. A particularly deep thrust left him incoherent with ecstasy and decided him to make Glorfindel his to the end of time.

Only an idiot would forego being loved so thoroughly. While Elrond's older son might accept that he could have been more judicious in his manner of winning himself the resident Balrog slayer, he would never admit to being an idiot.

Glorfindel gripped and stroked him as possessively as he repeatedly cleaved Elladan's backside. Within moments, completion flooded Elladan, sweeping away every last vestige of fear or inhibition. He did not recall keening himself hoarse, but his throat did feel strained afterward. What he did remember was sobbing breathlessly as the aftershocks of his climax slowly faded, bucking up instinctively to meet the last of Glorfindel's nigh bruising thrusts and happily wrapping his arms around the captain when Glorfindel spent himself generously inside him.

"Mine," Elladan thought in bliss, holding onto Glorfindel tightly.

"Aye, yours," Glorfindel agreed.

Elladan started and stared at Glorfindel. Had he spoken out loud? Glorfindel's slightly amused grin affirmed that he had.

"Are you really?" Elladan whispered, uncertain of a sudden.

Glorfindel sighed and gently pulled out of him. Using a discarded shirt, he wiped their bellies clean of Elladan's spending and his own seed from Elladan's thighs and bottom. He then lay back and drew Elladan into his arms.

"I think I belonged to you from the day of your birth," he said. He chuckled when he was rewarded with a radiant smile. "But 'twas only when you ceased to be a child that I realized it. That you are also your father's son complicated matters somewhat."

"Did you think it improper to court me?" Elladan asked curiously.

"Courtship alone would not have been improper," Glorfindel said. "But I knew it would not end there. Had you yielded so much as a kiss to me, I would not have been able to stop myself from claiming more, your father's wrath be damned. And even if I could have controlled myself, well, one does not plot to seduce his lord's son. Particularly if said son does not care to be seduced."

Elladan stared at him. "Not care to be—! Glorfindel, I would have been thrilled had you hauled me into your office, bent me over your desk and buggered me into the next century!"

Glorfindel snickered. "So say you now that you have sheathed me and found that you enjoy it. Nay, my Elladan, I could see how reluctant you were to yield yourself to anyone. Which was only natural given who you are. I preferred to bide my time until I knew for certain that you were ready. What I did not expect was your method of letting me know that you were!"

A blush stained Elladan's cheeks. "Oh, that…" he mumbled. A moment later, he huffed and said a trifle defiantly, "Really, it served you right."

A golden eyebrow rose questioningly. "I beg your pardon?"

Elladan shifted embarrassedly but he did not retreat. "It must not have been too hard biding your time when you had Erestor to help you pass it," he muttered.

At Glorfindel's puzzled reaction, Elladan blurted, "You cannot deny it. I saw the two of you some nights ago. He was waiting for you in your room and you did not resist his invitation to—" Elladan looked away. "I know you had lovers before me but I never imagined Erestor was one of them or that you would keep company with him when you knew that I... that I…" He trailed off, suddenly feeling foolish. "I am sorry, I have no right to dictate what you can or cannot do. We are not even betrothed, much less wed, and you are free to do as you wish with whomever you wish. I—"

Glorfindel cut him off with a lengthy, breath-stealing kiss that made him forget what he was going to say.

"Your imagination outstrips reality, _pen neth_"—young one—Glorfindel said when they drew apart. "I will not deny it, Elladan, I have had lovers before you. Aye, Erestor was one of them. We could meet each other's needs and still be friends after. That was a gift neither of us refused. But I will deny that I shared my bed with him or any other since I realized I was meant for you alone. Verily, this is the first time in twenty two years that I have coupled with anyone."

Shocked silence met his declaration. "But-but I saw you," Elladan sputtered at length. "That night, he— You—"

Glorfindel shook his head. "I was particularly needful that day and he sensed it. And being the good friend that he is, he offered to assuage it. But I declined and we ended up drinking and talking for the better part of that night instead. I had come to the point that no body but yours could sate mine. And no one but you could make me feel whole."

He suddenly rolled Elladan beneath him. "And after more than a score of years' waiting, a single coupling simply will not do," he huskily informed his surprised lover.

Elladan whimpered. Whether it was out of anticipation or apprehension even he could not ascertain. But of one thing he was sure. Elrohir would have much to say when he returned and found his brother unable to sit for any reasonable length of time.

_To be continued..._


	26. Yearning

**Title:** Yearning  
**Characters: **Elladan & Elrohir, Legolas  
**Prompt:** 034. Not Enough  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** The longing for union goes beyond bodily need when the heart and spirit have been freely offered and received.

Imladris, _lairë_ T.A. 199  
"By Elbereth, what offense have I committed to be tormented so!"

Elrohir glanced at his twin, noting his fixed glower, which had naught to do with simple frustration, but pointed to something more perilous. He looked back at the training yard where two golden-haired warriors sparred before a large audience of enthralled Elves. Glorfindel was in fine form as usual, but Legolas was a huge surprise to those who thought Wood-elves little versed in the use of the sword.

They presented a breathtaking sight, these two splendid specimens of beauty, strength and masculine grace. Elrohir felt a familiar tightening in his groin as he watched Legolas. He was certain Elladan was experiencing the same thing with regard to Glorfindel. There was no mistaking the suppressed desire in his brother's eyes. So why the accompanying emotion that seemed almost like anger?

"You are in love with a most estimable Elf," Elrohir mildly said. "That is hardly an offence, Elladan."

"Then why am I being punished?" Elladan retorted.

"Punished? How?"

"By having to wait forty years."

"For what?"

"An end to waiting."

Elrohir blinked. "Have you been sampling the contents of the wine cellar? That made no sense at all!"

Elladan snorted then turned and stalked back to the house. Elrohir stared after him, wondering at his dark mood. But loathe to miss any part of his visiting lover's impressive performance, he did not follow. Elladan would come to him if he wanted to share his concerns.

Sure enough, he had hardly returned to his quarters afterward when his brother showed up. As soon as he shut the door behind him, Elladan abruptly said, "I asked Glorfindel to bind to me."

The Elf-knight caught his breath. "And?" he prodded, expecting a tale of rejection and woe.

"He said yea," Elladan replied.

Elrohir stared at him, surprised and perplexed. "Then why are you—?"

"When I reach my hundredth year."

There was a pause. "That is all?" Elrohir finally said.

"_That is all?_" Elladan repeated. "Elrohir, he is asking me to wait again!"

The younger twin shook his head. "I do not understand why you are so perturbed."

Elladan threw his hands up. "Two score years!" he exclaimed. "I waited so long only to find that my waiting is not done."

"Do you know why?" Elrohir cautiously asked.

"He wants me to be sure," Elladan flatly stated. "As if I need more time to be certain of my feelings!"

That tweaked a memory. Elrohir recalled a conversation many years ago when Elladan had thought the captain unobtainable. And all because Glorfindel had counselled another young Elf to forego marriage until he had matured a little more.

"He had better think twice if he thinks I will put up with such idiotic notions," Elladan sniffed.

"You told him?" Elrohir asked in faint horror.

"Aye. He should know my mind on this."

Elrohir rolled his eyes. "Really, Elladan, must you make a mountain out of a molehill?" he remarked. Before his brother could protest, he barrelled on. "Glorfindel has agreed to bind to you and you still find cause to complain? You should count yourself blessed beyond compare instead of dwelling on so inconsequential a thing as a delay in getting your wish granted!"

Elladan bristled at his twin's reproachful tone. "And wouldn't you?" he challenged. "I want our future together assured. I do not care for uncertainty, which seems to be the Peredhil's lot in life."

"Don't be silly. Uncertainty is _everyone's_ lot in life."

"But there is nothing wrong with wanting it diminished in some things. Or are you saying you are content with your infrequent trysts with Legolas?" Elladan challenged. Absorbed in his feelings, he missed the warning light in his twin's eyes. "Surely it riles you that you have no set date of eternal togetherness to look forward to. I cannot believe that so fitful a liaison is enough for you, Elrohir."

"Of course it is not enough!" Elrohir snapped. "But it is far, far better than not having anything at all. At least, he is mine today, even if he cannot offer me forever."

Silence fell upon them, Elrohir glaring at his brother with mingled umbrage and wistfulness, Elladan staring back in sudden abashment and fast growing remorse. After several tense seconds, he reached out an apologetic hand. Thankfully, Elrohir accepted it.

"Not just yet," Elladan quietly said. "But one day, he will. I know he will." He squeezed Elrohir's hand. "I am sorry, Elrohir. That was thoughtless of me, complaining when I have almost everything while you must make do with…" He stopped, fearful that he was on the verge of offending his brother again.

Elrohir wanly smiled. "I know you did so out of deep yearning and not due to a lack of consideration for me," he assured his twin. "And I certainly do not begrudge you your good fortune. I am happy for you and wish you everlasting joy when Glorfindel claims you in full."

"And I wish you likewise when Legolas is free to do the same for you," Elladan said. He pulled Elrohir into a quick tight hug. "Thank you. I will go to Glorfindel now. I pray he will not make me work too hard for his forgiveness."

Elrohir chuckled. "I dare say there is one sure way to gain that. But it will entail putting your backside to good use for the rest of the day."

Elladan blushed and lightly punched his arm. But a gleam lit his grey eyes and, when he departed, a grin curved his mouth.

The younger twin's smile faded and he sighed. Waves of pensiveness washed over him, threatening to overwhelm him with sorrow and frustration much as Elladan had been earlier. Until strong arms slid around him from behind and he was pulled back against a powerful yet lithe Wood-elf's body.

"There will come a day when it _will_ be more than enough," Legolas murmured. "Trust me, my Elf-knight."

Elrohir leaned into the archer's embrace. A soft kiss brushed his cheek. Turning his face, he whispered against Legolas's lips.

"Always."

* * *

Glossary:  
lairë – Quenya for summer  
Peredhil – Half-elves

_To be continued..._


	27. Collusion

**Title:** Collusion  
**Characters:** Legolas/Elrohir, Glorfindel/Elladan, Elrond, Celebrian  
**Prompt:** 061. Winter  
**Rating:** M  
**Summary**: The granting of certain wishes sometimes entails unorthodox means.

The view from Elrohir's bedchamber balcony was a wondrous one. Beyond the gardens underneath their blanket of snow were the enclosing hills around the vale, all frosted in white, the pristine hues broken only by sturdy shrubs and dramatically shorn trees save for the evergreen pines. But even so lovely a scene could not compare with the splendid sight Elrohir awakened to most mornings this winter.

In the Elf-knight's opinion, nothing could compare to the spill of pale gold hair on his pillows, the splay of strong, lean limbs on his sheets or the spread of glorious white skin swathing a supple, muscular body upon his bed. Best of all was a face so comely and elegant yet covertly sensual and hinting at mischief that even the faintest trace of a smile was enough to take Elrohir's breath away.

No, nothing could surpass the beauty and grace of Legolas Thranduilion as far as Elrohir was concerned.

He bent to press an affectionate kiss to the Wood-elf's slightly parted lips. And gasped when he was abruptly drawn down into a decidedly unchaste kiss of considerable length. When Legolas released him, his heartbeat had quickened. It continued to speed up when he espied the suggestive gleam in his lover's eyes. And just about galloped when an enterprising hand purposely slid southwards.

"I thought you were still asleep," he moaned as he was gripped and stroked.

Legolas chuckled, the husky sound making Elrohir forget aught else but his imminent undoing.

"The mere scent of you is enough to rouse me from slumber," the prince murmured against a rosy cheek. "What more a kiss from so lovely an Elf?"

"I am not lovely!" Elrohir indignantly protested, unable to disassociate the adjective from female pulchritude.

"Beautiful then," Legolas amended. "And delectable. And oh so very primed for the taking." He rolled Elrohir onto his back. "For _my_ taking."

The younger Elf had but a glimpse of long fingers smoothing the combined cream of their emerging seed over flushed and hardened flesh before his bottom was lifted and his thighs parted for a slow, deep piercing. He shuddered with the pleasure of it and the thrill of being so thoroughly owned. He would need to cushion his backside when he sat down to breakfast. He had been doing so nearly every morning this year's summer and autumn. And he would likely go on doing so for the whole of winter.

Never in his most fevered hopes had he ever expected to know three seasons worth of Legolas's loving.

He raised a fist to his mouth to smother the sounds he inevitably made when taking an impressively endowed Elven prince up his backside. But Legolas pulled his hand away, jewel eyes glittering in the dim morning light.

"Your voice is as music to me, Elf-knight," he said. "Especially when you spend yourself. You will not deny me the pleasure of hearing you sing your ecstasy."

Elrohir groaned. Legolas had a way even with words!

He still tried to stifle the harsh sobs that escaped his lips as he was ridden hard or the choked screams that broke from him with each particularly deep thrust. To no avail. Legolas drew a litany of pleas and cries from him as they began to scale the heights to completion.

Desperate, he started to stroke himself. An instant later, he felt Legolas weave his fingers with his. The stimulation coupled with the archer's repeated plunges into him proved too much. With a strangled keen he broke and their bellies and groins were generously dappled with pearlescent seed.

In the midst of his throes, he heard Legolas lose himself in rapture. Warmth flooded his innards and he moaned at this evidence of their coupling. Neither knowledge nor sensation of Legolas's spending inside him ever palled and he fervently prayed he would have the pleasure of it for a long, long time to come. Or if the fates were kind, forevermore.

Afterward, they lay snugly spooned together, heedless of the creamy smears on their skin. Elrohir sighed contentedly as Legolas trailed kisses along his shoulders and up the side of his neck to his ears.

"Elrohir _nîn_," the archer whispered. My Elf-knight.

oOoOoOo

Much later, when he dropped by his father's study to spend a few hours with his family – for a change, Elladan had teased him – Elrohir considered the chain of events that had led to Legolas extending his stay in Imladris.

Glorfindel had returned from the first of his autumnal patrols to report a marked increase in orkish infestation of the Misty Mountains and the foothills of the great range. Elrond had cautioned Legolas against attempting a return to his land through so perilous a path. Even an escort of Elf-warriors was no guarantee of safe passage over the mountains to the east.

A letter dispatched to Thranduil by courier bird had elicited an agreement from the Elvenking that it would be best for his son to remain in Imladris until the onset of winter when the orcs retreated to their holes and hibernated the cold season away.

But come the start of winter, an early and heavy snowfall had caused blockage of the mountain passes. Once again, Legolas perforce delayed his return home and Elrohir found himself happily stuck with his lover's company for nigh three seasons running.

The Elf-knight was neither so selfish nor indifferent to rejoice in occurrences that could cause harm or hardship for those whose lives and livelihoods involved regularly crossing the mountains. But he did believe that even the stormiest clouds carried silver linings and that one being's misfortune could be another's great luck. Certainly, he would not deny feeling overly blessed to have Legolas in residence for so long due to the aforementioned sequence of unfortunate circumstances.

Entering Elrond's study, he found his parents seated within along with his twin and, unsurprising now that he and Elladan were betrothed, Glorfindel. They welcomed him and Elladan cheekily asked if he needed daily reminding of the existence of other Elves in the valley or that a few of them were actually related to him. Elrohir threw a cushion at him then settled in the small corner sofa, his cheeks nicely colored, but his lips threatening to break into a grin.

"Hush, Elladan, your brother's preoccupation is quite understandable," Celebrían mildly chided. She looked at her younger son. "I trust you are enjoying yourself this winter?"

"Very much, _Nana_"—Mama—Elrohir said. His eyes sparkling, he added: "I know I should not think thus, but verily, for once I am glad orcs breed so speedily." He looked a tad sheepishly at Glorfindel. "I confess, when you reported that it would be too dangerous for Legolas to cross the mountains, I thought it cause for celebration. I know you had naught to do with it, but I felt like thanking you nonetheless just for being the bearer of such good news."

Glorfindel grinned. "Well, I could not gainsay the wishes of my lord and lady," he said.

"Gainsay… What do you—?" Seeing the twinkle in Glorfindel's eyes, Elrohir's own widened. Elladan's smirk confirmed his budding suspicions. Elrohir turned to stare at his parents. "Then the report of increased orkish activity was false?"

"Of course not," Elrond briskly replied. "Glorfindel would never utter a lie even at my command. He merely…"

"Exaggerated the extent of the problem," Celebrían finished for her husband.

"But the report of the closure of the mountain passes was accurate," Glorfindel assured a dumbfounded Elf-knight. "The need for Legolas to spend the winter here is completely warranted. It seems the fates have seen fit to conspire with you, Elrohir."

When the younger twin gaped at him, Elladan quipped, "Well, it was your hope, was it not, that Legolas would lengthen his visit."

Elrohir regarded them with wonder. "Aye, it was," he admitted. A moment later, he frowned worriedly. "But what will Legolas say should he learn of this deception?"

"He said it was very well played out and that he did not guess at the truth until lately," Elrond said, chuckling softly at Elrohir's stunned reaction. "And he thanked us heartily for it. It seemed he had been looking for a good excuse to lengthen his visit and we provided him with it. Am I right, Legolas?"

Elrohir turned with a start to see Legolas enter the study. The archer sat beside him with a smile.

"You are, Lord Elrond," he said. He curled an arm around Elrohir and drew him closer. "And if the fates are indeed in collusion with us, the passes will remain blocked longer than their wont." He grinned at a speechless Elf-knight. "I may be forced to abide here until well past spring thaw."

"That is possible," Celebrían agreed. She looked at Elrohir with spurious repentance. "I hope you do not mind our meddling in your affairs, dearest."

For several seconds, Elrohir could only gawk. And then he collected himself and shook his head in awe.

"Mind?" he exclaimed. "By Elbereth, we should all be blessed with such a talent!"

_To be continued..._


	28. Finally

**Title:** Finally  
**Characters:** Glorfindel/Elladan, Elrohir, Celebrían, Elrond  
**Prompt:** 006: Hours  
**Rating:** M  
**Summary:** Whether the passage of time feels slow or fast oft has to do with what one is waiting for.

Imladris, Midsummer T.A. 240  
"Treading a rut into the floor will not make the hours fly by any faster, Elladan. Nor will looking at the sky every few minutes. The sun will set at its accustomed time and your incessant fidgeting and pacing is just making you fraught. Do sit down and get your nerves in order!"

For a moment, Elrohir thought he would have to manhandle his twin into complying. But thankfully, Elladan ceased his restless toing and froing and settled on the edge of his bed. He was not exactly a picture of complete calm but it was better than his frazzled behavior earlier. He picked at his sleeves then combed his fingers through his dark tresses. He pulled at a strand and glared at it.

"I still do not know whether I should braid my hair or leave it be," he muttered. "Ah, Elrohir, what should I do? I want to look my best!"

"Of course you do," Elrohir soothed. "But all this fretting is of no help. You have to becalm yourself else you will be a wreck before you even present yourself to Glorfindel."

Elladan turned such alarmed eyes on him that Elrohir groaned.

"Glorfindel will think you glorious!" he insisted. "Sweet Elbereth! Has he ever thought you anything less than delectable in all these years? You've shown up enough times at the breakfast table barely able to sit through a meal, so ardently has he shown you just how much he adores you!"

Elladan's cheeks turned a nice shade of red, but his groin displayed no sign of embarrassment. Indeed, a burgeoning bulge alerted Elrohir to yet another addition to Elladan's discomfort.

Elrohir had to grin at his brother's plight. Well, it was difficult to school one's self when faced with the prospect of warming the bed of Rivendell's valiant captain. Especially when one had done so countless times before and knew what it was like to couple with so splendid an Elf.

He sat down beside Elladan and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Just two more hours, brother. Take heart, it will soon be over and he will be yours. For good," he added with a smile.

That brought an answering smile to Elladan's lips. He relaxed fractionally.

"I am glad my waiting is done," he said. A moment later, he frowned and tensed once more. "Would that yours were too." He looked shamefacedly at Elrohir. "A pox on me to worry so when my dearest wish is about to be granted, while you—"

"Hush, Elladan," Elrohir gently cut him off. "How ridiculous of you to deride yourself just because you have gained your desire sooner! Our situations are completely different and not to be compared in any way."

Elladan pursed his lips then nodded. He took a deep breath and said, "So—what should I do about this unruly mop of mine?"

Elrohir shook his head. Unruly or not, Elladan's hair could in no way be likened to a mop. He had oft seen Glorfindel run his fingers through the lustrous black locks, a look of equal parts awe and delight on his face.

"I think you should braid your hair," he counselled. "Just to give Glorfindel the pleasure of undoing it before he unwraps you for the night."

"What in Arda has Legolas done to you?" Elladan exclaimed. "You were never so salty of tongue before he came along."

The Elf-knight laughed. "The potential was always there. He just unloosed my tongue, that is all."

"Not to mention your concupiscence," Elladan said with a chuckle.

He suddenly became aware of red gold light dappling the bedcovers, spreading toward him and Elrohir. He glanced over his shoulder toward the balcony.

"The sun is setting," he murmured.

"Then you should start getting ready," Elrohir said.

Almost as soon as he finished speaking, the door opened and Celebrían entered. She came toward her sons, extending a swath of luminous white fabric to Elladan.

"As promised, your father's own wedding attire," she smilingly informed him. "Worn to honor his brother's memory."

Elladan caught his breath and quickly rose to his feet.

"Thank you, _Nana._"

Celebrían eased the garment over his arms and shoulders then fastened its elaborate clasps. She and Elrohir stood back to admire the result.

The tunic was from another place and era. Cut in the style of ancient Númenor, it was knee-length and close-fitting with a low neckline and long sleeves that flared slightly at the wrist, revealing Elladan's cunningly embroidered shirt and hose-clad legs. On one shoulder, a star had been sewn in silver purl and embellished with tiny crystal beads so that it glimmered in the light. The star's rays ran from chest to waist in a spray of silver and more crystal beading. A low belt of gleaming mithril links and square-cut diamonds completed the ensemble.

Elladan turned to stare at himself in the mirror. His eyes widened at the vision that met his eyes.

"Valar…" he murmured.

Celebrían laid a hand on his elbow. "Come, let us decide how to do your hair, dearest," she said. "Do you wish to leave it loose or to plait it?"

Elladan glanced at his brother, then smirked. "I should like to plait it."

oOoOoOo

They gathered in the garden just as the stars began to come out. Every Elf of the Last Homely House and then some came to bear witness to the binding of Elrond's eldest to the warrior who commanded the valley's military force.

Elrohir stifled a snicker when his brother could not look Glorfindel in the eye even as they uttered their vows. But how could he when the captain gazed at him with such abiding love and unabashed lust that Elladan must have felt himself stripped bare before everyone.

Indeed, Elladan wondered why he had been in such a hurry to get on with it. Suddenly, it seemed the hours were going much too swiftly, speeding toward the moment when Glorfindel would claim him not merely as lover, but as his eternal mate. Eru help him, the warrior was going to be very thorough about it if the glitter in his eyes was any indication of his intent.

"It is only to be expected," Elrond had told his sons earlier as they made their way to the garden. "The wedding of spirits unleashes a need for bodily union that is nigh unquenchable for a long while after."

"How long?" Elladan had asked, then rued knowing the answer.

His father shrugged. "Oh, a few centuries or so."

"Cen-centuries?"

"Of course, the lust abates somewhat as time goes on," Elrond continued. "Twice contents most Elves when their passion relents, or even once when time is at a premium."

"Weekly?" Elrohir ventured.

Elrond almost looked scandalized. "Of course not," he snorted. "Daily."

The twins exchanged looks of amazement. Wherever did wedded Elves find the time to do other things such as build cities and the like?

Elladan was abruptly yanked back to the present when Glorfindel pulled him into his arms and bestowed a kiss of such fervency, he thought his mother's garden would go up in flames. Released from Glorfindel's embrace afterward, Elladan could only woozily lean against the captain's broad chest. Glorfindel's next words served to addle his brain even more.

"_Finally. Mine and mine alone._"

The rest of the festivities passed in a blur. Elladan's first clear recollection of the evening after the binding rites was standing by their conjugal bed while Glorfindel unravelled his braids with a reverence that was as tender as it was sensual. His restraint was nowhere in evidence, however, when it came to ridding Elladan of his finery.

In less time than he'd thought possible, Elladan found himself pressed into the mattress, spread-eagled for Glorfindel's pleasure. And take his pleasure Glorfindel did with a diligence that left Elladan giddy with sensation.

Perhaps Elladan would learn to master his magnificent spouse as well. But not tonight. And so he helplessly and so very happily bore the brunt of Glorfindel's hunger.

The stroke of heated hands. The slide of probing fingers. The suck of a warm mouth. Elladan was steadily undone until he was all but pleading for mercy. Offered Glorfindel's shaft to further ready him, he eagerly drew on it as avidly as Glorfindel dipped his tongue into him. So well did he tend to his spouse that Glorfindel came perilously close to spending.

The captain pulled him up with a growl and rolled him onto his belly. Elladan gasped as his buttocks were brusquely parted. The gasp evolved into a series of moans as Glorfindel entered him in one smooth thrust. He buried his face in the pillow, trying to smother his too audible reactions to Glorfindel's relentless ingress into his body.

"Nay, I want to hear you," Glorfindel huskily said. He coaxed Elladan onto his hands and knees.

Glorfindel's pace continued unabated, every lunge of his hips plunging him deep into his Peredhel mate. With every inward stroke, Elladan felt the flaring of ecstasy. And a strange and wondrous spiralling of bliss like no other he had ever known before.

"Glorfindel?" he quavered.

"Do not fight it, my heart," the warrior enjoined him. "Feel the joy of our spirits' binding."

He reached around to grip Elladan as well. Elladan cried out as his pleasure promptly rose another notch. Shaking now, he almost frantically pushed back against Glorfindel, actively abetting his piercing.

Completion came swiftly for both of them after that. And as their rapture peaked, so were they swept into that otherworldly plane of oneness that only wedded Elves experienced. Neither could later recall how long it lasted; they only knew that it was intense and unforgettable. Elladan finally understood the almost irresistible urge of mated Elves to join their bodies in sexual communion.

Afterward, they lay close together in sated felicity. Glorfindel pressed a kiss to Elladan's damp brow.

"I hear you could scarcely bear the wait for our binding to take place," he murmured. "Elrohir says you counted the days until this moment."

"Not just the days, but hours," Elladan admitted with a smile.

Glorfindel chuckled. "You may rue your eagerness come morning. My hunger for you seems to have grown a hundredfold."

He smoothed a palm over Elladan's well-used backside. One finger lazily traced its way down the crease of the twin's bottom before insinuating itself between and inward. Elladan arched against Glorfindel as pleasure radiated from the point of invasion.

"And mine twice that," he replied, caught between a laugh and a moan. "What think you? Can you satisfy this Peredhel?"

In answer, Glorfindel rolled them over and pinned Elladan to the bed. "Is that a challenge?" he demanded.

Elladan grinned impishly. "Nay, beloved. 'Tis my hope."

_To be continued..._


End file.
